WHAT    SHOULD    I    BELIEVE? 


By  GEORGE   TRUMBULL  LADD 


WHAT  CAN  I  KNOW? 

An  Inquiry  into  Truth,  its  Nature,  the  Means 
of  its  Attainment,  and  its  Relations  to  the 
Practical  Life.  Crown  8vo.  pp.  viii-311. 

WHAT  OUGHT  I  TO  DO? 

An  Inquiry  into  the  Nature  and  Kinds  of  Virtue 
and  into  the  Sanctions,  Aims,  and  Values  of  the 
Moral  Life.  Crown  8vo.  pp.  x-311. 

WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

An  Inquiry  into  the  Nature,  Grounds,  and 
Values  of  the  Faiths  of  Science,  Society,  Morals, 
and  Religion. 

WHAT  MAY  I  HOPE? 

An  Inquiry  into  the  Sources  and  Reasonable- 
ness of  Human  Hopes,  especially  the  Social  and 
Religious.  [  In  preparation  ] 


LONGMANS,  GREEN,  AND  CO. 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 


AN  INQUIRY  INTO  THE 

NATURE,  GROUNDS  AND  VALUE 

OF  THE  FAITHS  OF  SCIENCE,  SOCIETY 

MORALS  AND  RELIGION 


BY 

GEORGE  TRUMBULL  LADD,  LL.D. 


LONGMANS,   GREEN,  AND  CO. 

FOURTH  AVENUE  &  30TH  STREET,   NEW  YORK 

LONDON,    BOMBAY,    CALCUTTA,    AND    MADRAS 

1915 


COPYRIGHT,    1915 
BY    LONGMANS,    GREEN,    AND    CO. 


PREFACE 

THERE  are  no  questions  bearing  on 
the  conduct  of  life  which  are  more 
frequently  asked,  or  with  greater  per- 
plexity, than  the  one  that  has  been  chosen  for 
the  title  of  this  little  volume.  All  over  the 
world  millions  of  inquiring  minds,  some  of  them 
sincerely  anxious  to  know  the  truth,  are  daily 
propounding  this  question  to  the  newspaper, 
not  only  to  its  columns  of  alleged  news,  but 
chiefly  to  its  advertisements  and  its  editorials. 
The  man  of  business,  however  little  specula- 
tive, does  not  expect  positively  to  know  in  what 
direction  the  market  will  move  along  the  line 
which  constitutes  his  principal  interest;  but 
he  seeks  for  as  persuasive  grounds  as  it  is 
possible  to  attain,  by  which  to  regulate  his 
oeliefs.  In  a  critical  case,  the  physician  watches 
the  symptoms  of  his  patient,  not  so  wisely  with 
the  hope  that  he  may  make  his  predictions  of 
recovery  or  of  speedy  death  as  certain  as  those 
of  the  return  of  daylight  or  of  darkness  at  the 

[v] 


313242 


PREFACE 

hour  announced  by  the  almanac,  as  that  he 
may  guide  his  behavior  in  meeting  those  symp- 
toms according  to  the  faiths  rendered  most 
reasonable  by  his  medical  science.  And  the 
question  asked  with  the  most  insistent  anxiety 
by  the  relative  or  friend  of  the  patient  concerns 
the  amount  of  "trust"  which  can  be  properly 
given  to  the  word  and  the  skill  of  that  same 
physician.  In  all  these  relations,  the  question, 
What  shall  I  most  reasonably  believe?  is  the 
one  kept  prominently  before  the  mind. 

We  do  not  need  to  be  told  how  prominent 
are  the  perplexities  of  doubt  and  trust  in  all 
courts  of  law.  Here  it  is  credibility  of  belief 
rather  than  certainty  of  knowledge  which 
invariably  plays  the  leading  part.  This  is  not 
simply  or  chiefly  because  there  are  so  many 
lawyers  and  witnesses  who  do  not  hesitate  over 
a  trifle  of  deceit  or  a  modicum  of  deliberate 
lying;  or  even  because  our  very  latest  and 
most  purified  means  of  administering  justice 
have  not  freed  us  of  judges  capable  of  being 
influenced  by  the  many  ways  of  indirect  as 
.well  as  of  open  bribery.  It  is  the  rather  be- 
cause the  conduct  of  the  public  justice  is  essen- 
tially and  always  concerned  with,  and  dependent 
upon,  the  beliefs  and  not  the  knowledges  of 

[vi] 


PREFACE 

those  who  take  part  in  it.  It  is  not  without 
deep  significance,  then,  that  the  witness  swears 
to  testify  to  the  truth  according  to  the  "best  of 
his  belief"  as  well  as  of  his  knowledge.  Honest 
and  thorough  as  the  best  of  witnesses  may  be 
in  his  intention,  it  is  much  more  of  credible 
impression  than  of  certainty  which  he  puts 
forth  in  answer  to  his  oath  to  tell  "the  truth, 
the  whole  truth  and  nothing  but  the  truth." 

We  might  be  tempted  to  think  from  the  talk 
of  some  of  its  advocates  (the  so-called  "scien- 
tists") that  science  is,  since  it  has  more  clearly 
recognized  the  nature  of  proof  and  has  taken 
the  modern  experimental  turn,  almost  or  quite 
independent  of  the  influence  of  general  or  more 
particular  and  individual,  not  to  say  eccentric 
and  highly  peculiar,  beliefs;  that,  in  fact,  it 
has  at  last  succeeded  in  making  the  whole 
compacted  body  of  its  conclusions  so  trans- 
parent  that  the  light  of  the  truth  of  reality 
now  shines  right  through  it,  revealing  its  bony 
structure,  systems  of  circulation,  of  digestion 
and  of  propagation,  in  every  detail  of  their 
anatomy  and  of  their  functions.  But  even  the 
novice  who  reads  its  literature  or  attends  — 
listening  thoughtfully  —  any  of  the  stated 
meetings  of  its  various  learned  societies,  knows 

[vii] 


PREFACE 

that  the  case  is  not  so.  And  no  confidential 
converse  with  any  of  the  most  judicious  and 
really  distinguished  of  its  representatives  is 
possible  which  does  not  make  clear  the  fact 
that  they  at  least  do  not  claim  that  it  is  so. 
They  only  claim  to  be  trying  to  reduce  a  great 
and  confused  mass  of  conflicting  opinions  and 
beliefs  to  terms  of  scientifically  verifiable 
knowledge. 

When  we  come  to  examine  matters  of  politi- 
cal and  social  theory  and  practice,  we  need  not 
be  long  in  discovering  that  the  strongest  forces 
controlling  here  are  the  beliefs  rather  than  the 
science  of  mankind.  Debates  in  representative 
bodies  the  world  over  are  not  statements  of 
truths  verily  known  and  accompanied  by  their 
proofs;  they  are  more  largely  muddles  of  un- 
analyzed  beliefs  and  crude  unverified  opinions. 
Of  the  causes  of  these  opinions  those  who  hold 
them  can  give  little  account;  and  the  reasons 
for  them  have  never  been  subjected  to  any 
thorough  examination  or  prepared  for  legiti- 
mate defence.  In  the  less  deliberate  and 
guarded  forms  of  the  social  maxims  and  social 
customs,  the  beliefs  rather  than  the  knowledges 
of  the  human  beings  who  compose  the  social 
factors  have  much  the  larger  sway. 

[  viii  1 


PREFACE 

If  now  we  could  investigate  in  detail,  one 
by  one,  the  origin,  nature,  and  practical  uses 
of  human  beliefs,  could  enumerate,  classify, 
and  explain  them,  we  could  then  settle  once 
for  all  their  real  grounds  and  the  reasonableness 
of  their  influence.  He  who  should  accomplish 
this  task  would  have  in  his  hand  the  key  to 
human  conduct  and  human  character.  He 
might  even  give  scientific  precision  to  his  pre- 
dictions as  to  the  coming  developments  of 
humanity  and  the  future  course  of  human 
history.  But  the  individuality,  the  infinite 
diversity,  of  personality,  renders  the  dream  of 
such  an  enterprise  as  futile  as  it  is  fantastic. 
We  may  make  one  rough  and  popular  distinc- 
tion, however,  which,  in  spite  of  its  roughness 
and  lack  of  scientific  precision,  may  be  used,  at 
least  in  the  way  of  warning,  to  some  good  pur- 
pose of  practical  value.  In  the  case  of  the 
millions  of  readers  of  the  daily  paper,  to  whom 
reference  was  earlier  made,  we  should  find  a 
considerable  proportion  ready  to  classify  them- 
selves at  the  extreme  ends  of  a  line  intended  to 
serve  as  a  sort  of  measure  of  faith  and  credulity. 
Owing  to  the  enforced  inaccuracy  or  the  duplic- 
ity and  faithlessness  of  those  who  write  for 
every  form  of  the  public  press,  there  is  a  rather 

[ix] 


PREFACE 

numerous  class  of  readers  who  are  fond  of 
saying:  "But,  then,  you  know,  I  never  believe 
anything  which  I  see  in  the  newspapers"  (or  in 
the  magazine,  or  book) ;  —  or  what  I  hear  in 
the  way  of  gossip,  or  perhaps,  what  the  parson 
puts  into  his  sermon,  or  what  the  churches 
have  put  into  their  so  largely  divergent  if  not 
contradictory  creeds.  But  another  not  less 
numerous  class  of  readers  and  hearers  will  be 
esteemed  —  not  altogether  unjustly  —  by  their 
contemporaries  to  be  either  a  bit,  or  altogether, 
too  credulous.  When  asked,  How  do  you  know 
that?  or,  Why  do  you  believe  that?  they  think 
it  quite  sufficient  justification  to  respond: 
"Why,  I  read  it  in  such  or  such  a  newspaper  or 
book;"  or  "So  I  was  told  by  such  or  such  a 
person."  The  multitude  of  mankind  might 
then  be  divided  into  the  too  credulous  and  the 
too  incredulous. 


•  Now  plainly,  neither  of  these  two  extreme 
positions  is  tenable,  whether  it  is  assumed  on 
grounds  of  intrinsic  reasonableness  or  because 
of  an  experience  of  its  practical  value.  No 
man  can  live  successfully,  or  even  live  at  all, 
without  the  possession  and  the  use  of  an  -enor- 
mous number  of  beliefs  that  can  only  slowly,  or 
not  at  all,  be  converted  into  verifiable  knowl- 

[*] 


PREFACE 

edge- judgments.  Indeed,  when  any  one  makes 
unqualified  denial  of  faith  in  what  he  reads  or 
hears  from  others,  he  is  simply  not  telling  the 
truth.  And  if  he  intend  to  extend  this  sceptical 
denial  to  all  manner  of  beliefs,  he  is  most 
abundantly  showing  that  he  has  no  adequate 
conception  of  human  nature,  of  the  necessary 
constitution  of  human  society,  or  of  what 
manner  of  a  being  he  himself  is.  But  surely  I 
do  not  need  to  argue  that  he  who  believes 
everything  he  reads  in  the  daily  press  or  hears 
from  the  gossips,  or  even  everything  which  the 
parson  says  from  the  pulpit,  is  in  no  less  sad 
case.  For  if  the  universal  sceptic  in  the  realm 
of  belief  could  not  act  at  all,  the  indiscriminately 
credulous  man  would  never  be  able  to  decide 
in  what  particular  direction  to  act.  For  both 
extremes,  a  successful  and  happy  life  would  be 
alike  impossible. 

From  these  prefatory  remarks  we  may  derive 
at  once  the  practical  conclusions:  first,  that  we 
all  must  believe  something,  must,  indeed,  have 
and  cherish  and  trust  a  goodly  host  of  beliefs; 
but,  second,  that  we  must  all  make  selection  of 
certain  beliefs  rather  than  others.  We  must 
believe  many  things  that  we  cannot  as  yet 
know;  but  we  must  not  believe  everything,  we 

[xi] 


PREFACE 

must  be  discriminating  in  our  beliefs.  It  is 
these  two  indubitable  facts  which  give  interest 
and  value  to  the  question:  What  should  I 
believe?  It  is  the  same  facts  which  emphasize 
the  extreme  difficulty  of  answering  the  same 
question.  And  when  we  consider  the  enormous 
influence  and  incomparable  value  of  some  of 
the  greater  human  beliefs  —  notably  those 
which  prevail  in  the  spheres  of  morality  and  re- 
ligion,— it  begins  to  look  as  though  no  question 
could  be  more  important  than  this,  however 
perplexing.  From  these  facts,  too,  the  reader 
may  derive  at  the  very  beginning,  if  he  kindly 
will,  a  considerable  sum  both  of  interest  and  of 
indulgence  in  the  work  of  the  author.  Still 
more  than  in  the  answer  to  the  question,  What 
ought  I  to  do?  is  it  impossible,  in  answering  the 
question,  What  should  I  believe?  for  one  human 
being  to  lay  down  precise  rules  for  any  other. 
The  laws,  the  customs,  and  the  developed  con- 
science of  the  public  and  of  the  individual,  have 
in  many  lines  pretty  strictly  marked  out  the 
rules  of  conduct  for  the  individual.  From  the 
very  nature  of  the  case,  all  these  influences  could 
never  do  the  same  thing  for  the  limits  of  belief. 
And  of  late,  whether  for  good  or  for  evil,  the 
attempt  to  do  this  has  either  greatly  weakened 
[xii] 


PREFACE 

or  wholly  ceased  to  exist.  But  there  are  guide- 
boards  set  up  here  and  there,  if  there  are  few 
lines  of  enclosure  definitely  drawn.  We  shall 
try  to  discover  what  some  of  these  guide- 
boards  are. 


[  xiii 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    GUESSING,  "  TROWING,"  AND  BELIEVING    .  1 

II.    THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  To  BELIEVE"     .  42 

III.  LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS  ....  68 

IV.  RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS  OF  BELIEF  .     .  93    v- 
V.    COMFORTS  AND  REWARDS  OF  RIGHT  BELIEF  124 

VI.    BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL     .     .     .  142 

VII.    THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY    .....  182  ' 
VIII.    THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 


INDEX  .  271 


"//,  then,  among  the  many  opinions  about  the 
gods  and  the  generation  of  the  Universe,  we  are 
not  able  to  give  notions  that  are  exact  and  con- 
sistent with  one  another,  do  not  wonder  at  that." 

—  PLATO. 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

CHAPTER  I 

GUESSING,  "TROWING,"  AND 
BELIEVING 

IN  the  very  statement  of  the  question,  "What 
should  I  believe?"  (or  phrase  it  otherwise, 
as  we  will)  certain  relations  are  implied  to 
the  two  other  questions  and  their  answers, 
which  have  been  considered  in  the  preceding 
volumes  of  this  series.1  For  surely,  without 
knowing  something  I  cannot  believe  anything;  )  ^— 
and  the  briefest  and  most  superficial  analysis 
of  the  activity  called  knowing  shows  how  every 
such  activity  involves  elements  of  belief.  In  a 
less  patent  but  even  more  interesting  way  there 
is  a  suggestion  of  connection  between  believing 
and  the  conduct  we  call  moral.  At  least, 
thoughtful  men  are  always  raising  the  inquiry, 
which  the  social  environment  of  every  individual 
enforces:  "Is  it  ever  my  duty  to  believe  some 

1  "What  Can   I   Know?"  and  "What    Ought  I    to   Do?" 
(Longmans,  Green  &  Co.) 

[i] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

things  and  not  to  believe  other  things?"  "Is 
the  exercise  of  choice  among  contesting  or  con- 
flicting beliefs  a  matter  of  moral  obligation; 
and  if  so,  on  what  grounds  should  the  choice 
be  determined?"  Especially  insistent  are  these 
practical  inquiries  in  matters  of  moral  beliefs 
and  religious  faith. 

In  order  to  breathe  properly,  or  to  acquire 
and  habitually  practise  the  most  approved 
methods  of  "deep  breathing,"  it  is  not  abso- 
lutely indispensable  that  one  should  become  an 
expert  in  the  physiology  of  respiration.  Even 
less  is  it  necessary,  in  order  to  enjoy  a  fair 
measure  of  such  health  as  comes  from  a  properly 
regulated  diet,  that  one  should  master  all  the 
mysteries  of  digestion  and  nutrition.  For, 
indeed,  these  mysteries  are  still  hidden  from  the 
wisest  and  most  prudent;  and  physiological 
chemistry  is  as  yet  a  new  and  rapidly  develop- 
ing branch  of  biological  science.  It  is  fortunate 
for  our  mental  and  spiritual  welfare,  that,  in 
order  to  select  and  cherish  a  considerable  outfit 
of  helpful  and  reasonable  faiths,  it  is  not 
absolutely  essential  to  make  a  satisfactory 
psychological  analysis  of  the  nature  and  diver- 
gent values  of  the  different  forms  and  degrees 
of  belief.  For  the  problem  offered  by  the  bare 

[2] 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

question,  What  is  it  to  believe?  is  very  com- 
plicated and  in  spots  excessively  obscure. 

It  does  not  follow  from  this,  however,  that 
there  is  no  theoretical  satisfaction  or  practical 
benefit  to  be  expected  from  essaying  some  sort 
of  a  tentative  and  partial  answer  to  the  question 
we  have  just  pronounced  so  difficult  and,  in 
fact,  to  no  small  extent  unanswerable.  Even 
if  we  accepted  without  controversy  at  its  fullest 
alleged  value  the  likeness  between  physical  and 
mental,  or  moral  and  spiritual  health,  so  narrow 
a  conclusion  would  not  hold.  For  the  most 
extreme  pragmatist  in  matters  of  sanitation 
and  bodily  comfort,  some  knowledge  of  the 
physiology  of  respiration  and  of  physiological 
chemistry  has  a  certain  rational  as  well  as 
practical  value,  —  if,  indeed,  we  have  any  right 
to  separate  between  the  two  kinds  of  value. 
But  in  respect  of  our  beliefs,  there  are  limita- 
tions to  the  force  of  analogies  between  the 
health  and  welfare  of  the  body  and  the  requisites 
and  sanity  of  the  development  of  the  spirit 
that  is  in  man.  To  this  spirit,  even  in  its  more 
primary  satisfactions,  as  well  as  concerning  the 
healthfulness  of  its  entire  development,  there 
is  something  disturbing,  if  not  positively  hate- 
ful, about  believing  what  is  not  true,  even  to  be 

[3] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

comforted  thereby.  To  pin  one's  faith  to  a 
lie  is  to  be  condemned  already.  How  to  guard 
our  beliefs,  as  well  as  the  conditions  of  human 
frailty  and  the  limitations  of  human  experience 
permit,  is  therefore  a  problem  of  both  theoretical 
difficulty  and  practical  importance  that  is 
transcended  by  no  other.  But  it  should  be 
attempted  with  modesty  and  resignation. 

On  approaching  the  question,  What  is  it  to 
believe?  the  relations  of  both  likeness  and 
difference  between  knowledge  and  belief  are  the 
most  immediately  impressive.  As  we  have  else- 
where said  ("What  Can  I  Know?"  p.  98  f.): 
"The  real  differences  between  our  beliefs  and 
our  knowledge  are  chiefly  these  two :  Our  beliefs 
are  more  largely  based  upon  experiences  of 
emotion  and  sentiment  in  a  predominating 
way;  and  the  most  intense  and  tenacious  of 
them  are  attached  to  matters  that  have  some 
kind  of  ideal  value."  But  these  differences, 
even  if  we  admit  that  they  stand  in  the  front 
rank,  show  themselves  in  experience  more 
frequently  as  matters  of  degree  rather  than  of 
kind;  and  at  best,  they  are  only  two  differences 
selected  out  of  a  much  larger  number,  rather 
for  their  obviousness  than  for  their  intrinsic 
importance.  It  decidedly  is  not  true,  as  Sir 

[4] 


GUESSING,  "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

William  Hamilton  has  affirmed  with  his  quite 
too  customary  disposition  to  make  his  defini- 
tions more  precise  than  accords  with  the  delicate 
and  indefinitely  varied  shadings  of  the  facts  of 
life:  "Knowledge  and  Belief  differ  not  only  in  . 
degree  but  in  kind."  "Knowledge  is  a  cer- 
tainty founded  upon  insight;  belief  is  certainty 
founded  upon  feeling.  The  one  is  perspicuous 
and  objective,  the  other  obscure  and  subjec- 
tive." Nor  do  we  need  in  this  connection  to  go 
over  again  our  objections  to  the  rigidness  of 
Kant's  distinction,  which  seemed  to  base  the 
justification  for  an  assurance  to  so-called 
"knowledge,"  such  as  so-called  "faith"  could 
never  attain,  in  some  kind  of  a  finished  process 
of  transition  from  "subjective  certainty"  to 
"objective  certainty." 

Professor  Maher  is  quite  justified  in  saying 
(Psychology,"  p.  330),  from  the  point  of  view 
of  every-day  experience,  "What  is  knowledge  to  /W 

v  \   f 

one  man  may  therefore  be  belief  to  another." 
Surely:  and  what  is  at  one  time  belief  to  one 
man  may  come  to  be  knowledge  to  the  same  fa 
man  at  another  time;  and  what  to  some  other 
man  was  knowledge  at  the  time  at  which  it  was 
belief  to  the  first  man  may  come  to  be  belief  — 
even  very  faint  belief  —  to  this  other  man  at 

[5] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

the  same  time  that  it  is  placed  on  the  firmer 
ground  of  knowledge  by  the  same  first  man. 
The  professor's  expository  lecture  may  carry 
the  pupil  over  from  vague  and  doubtful  belief 
to  the  assurance  of  scientific  (sic)  knowledge; 
but  the  listening  pupil's  pungent  question  may 
throw  the  knowing  professor  back  upon  the 
shadowy  ground  of  a  by  no  means  assured 
belief.  In  such  a  case,  the  one  teaches  the 
other  why  he  should  now  assent;  the  other 
suggests  to  the  one  why  he  should  examine  anew 
the  grounds  of  his  former  assent. 

"Belief,"  says  a  recent  discussion  of  this 
difficult  subject,  "has  been  variously  assigned 
to  the  cognitional,  emotional,  and  volitional 
faculties;  and  its  sphere  has  been  made  to 
comprehend  all  kinds  of  assurance,  from  trust 
in  human  or  divine  testimony  to  convictions  of 
the  validity  of  primary  truths."  (Maher,  p. 
326.)  This  sentence  states,  and  its  analysis  re- 
veals, the  distinguishing  faults  of  the  hitherto 
reigning  systems  of  psychology.  One  fault 
consists  in  the  assumption  that  any  attitude  of 
the  human  mind  toward  any  object  of  sense  or 
any  judgment  arising  in  consciousness,  whether 
with  a  perfect  seeming  spontaneity  or  as  the 
result  of  prolonged  research  or  severe  reflective 

[61 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

thinking,  can  properly  "be  assigned"  to  any  one 
of  these  so-called  "faculties"  to  the  complete 
or  even  very  partial  seclusion  of  the  other. 
Scientific  judgments  are  as  truly  complex 
attitudes  of  mind  involving  all  these  so-called 
faculties  (if  we  are  to  speak  of  the  different 
factors,  phases,  or  "moments"  of  these  attitudes 
in  this  way)  as  are  religious  beliefs,  or  the  rights 
and  obligations  we  acknowledge  in  matters  of 
conduct  from  the  ethical  point  of  view.  The 
other  fault  is  more  characteristic  of  a  psychology 
that,  in  trying  to  vindicate  its  claim  to  be 
modern,  has  shut  its  eyes  to  many  of  the  most 
profound  and  persistent  and  incomparably 
valuable  sides  of  human  experience;  or  if  it 
consents  to  see  them  at  all,  thinks  properly  to 
compass  and  explain  them  by  purely  mechani- 
cal theories  or  the  petty  methods  of  the  ques- 
tionnaire or  the  psychological  laboratory. 

In  approaching  the  problem  of  the  nature  of 
belief  we  must  admit  at  once  its  extreme  com- 
plexity, and  the  delicate  and  shifting  aspect  of 
the  picture,  even  when  drawn  in  outline,  of  this 
attitude  of  mind  as  compared  or  contrasted 
with  those  which  most  nearly  resemble  it,  or 
even  quite  definitely  involve  it,  but  which  we 
generally  prefer  to  call  by  other  names.  Belief 

[7] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

is  not  knowledge,  is  not  mere  sentiment,  is  not 
uncertain  opinion,  is  not  pure  thought.  But 
it  is  allied  with  all  these  mental  states. 

Let  us  then  admit  the  variety  and  shifting 
character  of  the  various  factors  which  enter 
into  the  relation  toward  its  object,  of  the 
believing  mind.  For,  in  truth,  to  adopt  the 
distinction  of  Cardinal  Newman  in  his  very 
subtle  and  illumining  book,  "The  Grammar  of 
Assent,"  there  is  in  real  life  no  such  thing  as 
"simple  assent."  There  is  only  indefinitely 
"complex  assent."  All  mental  yielding  to  the 
facts  of  perception,  or  to  the  suggestions  of 
so-called  instinct,  or  to  the  word  of  the  trusted 
teacher  or  beloved  friend,  as  well  as  to  all  claims 
of  morality  and  to  the  credos  of  religion,  if  it  be 
a  genuine  and  full-fledged  attitude  of  belief,  is 
a  complex  affair. 

It  is  possible,  however,  to  discriminate  some 
of  the  more  important,  if  less  obvious,  of  the 
factors  which  enter  into  every  attitude  of 
belief,  or,  if  the  term  be  received  for  the  time 
as  instructive,  of  "complex  consent."  And  in 
entering  upon  this  venture  we  will  take  our 
point  of  departure  from  the  other  end  of  the 
line,  so  to  say.  If  the  attitude  of  mind  which 
we  are  wont  to  call  knowledge  seems  to  have  in 

[8] 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

its  favor  more  of  subjective  assurance,  and  to 
justify  this,  more  of  objective  evidence,  the 
very  opposite  is  true  of  that  curious  and  in- 
teresting mental  activity  which  we  call  guessing. 
It  is  not  especially,  and  certainly  not  exclusively, 
in  the  form  of  the  "guessing"  of  the  Yankee  or 
the  "reckoning"  of  the  Southerner,  that  this 
remoteness  from  the  assumption  of  knowledge 
is  most  clearly  realized.  For  the  mental  atti- 
tudes which  it  is  designed  to  express  by  these 
characteristic  colloquialisms  usually  involve  all 
the  pretence,  if  not  the  reality,  of  the  more 
completed  forms  of  mental  assurance  as  based 
on  unassailable  grounds.  In  the  king's  English, 
however,  genuine  guessing  is  in  one  respect,  at 
least,  most  unlike  the  higher  kinds  of  cognition 
and  most  like  the  lower  kinds  of  belief.  This 
respect  has  to  do  with  ignorance  of  the  grounds 
and  almost,  if  not  complete  disregard  of  the 
reasons,  on  which  the  mental  attitude  is  itself 
dependent.  In  this  use  of  the  word,  guessing 
is  peculiarly  the  gambler's  forte.  It  is  not 
without  a  profound  and  suggestive  meaning 
that  we  employ  the  quite  appropriate  phrase 
of  "hazarding  a  guess."  Why  he  selects  the 
particular  card,  or  the  number  at  roulette,  as 
sure  to  win,  the  guesser  is  at  the  time  of  its 

[9] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

selection  quite  unable  to  tell.  By  a  system  of 
mysterious  calculations,  which  are  apt  to  carry 
with  them  no  "objective  sufficiency"  (to  avail 
ourselves  again  of  the  somewhat  misleading 
phrase  of  Kant),  the  gambler  may  have  proved 
to  his  own  satisfaction  that  his  guess  is  well 
founded;  but  in  doing  this  he  has  quite  changed 
his  mental  attitude.  He  has  converted  an 
uncertain  and  inexplicable  hazard  into  a 
specious  form  of  assured  knowledge. 

Now  it  is  also  characteristic  of  every  form  of 
belief  that,  so  long  as  it  remains  mere  belief, 
or  "simple  assent,"  it  is  quite  ignorant  of  its 
own  causes  and  at  least  relatively  regardless  of 
its  reasons  or  proofs.  Perhaps  we  shall  not  be 
far  from  the  truth  if  we  say,  though  in  a  way 
subject  to  further  correction  or  amendment, 
that  this  is  the  distinguishing  thing  about  all 
kinds  of  belief,  so  long  as  they  remain  chiefly 
belief,  and  have  not  made  considerable  ad- 
vances toward  the  conditions  demanded  by 
knowledge.  For  knowledge  and  belief,  or  faith, 
require  only  a  more  or  less  degree  of  shifting  in 
the  complex  characteristics  which  they  share  in 
common,  in  order  that  the  one  may  quickly 
transform  itself  or  slowly  fade  away  into  the 
other.  Negatively  stated,  then,  we  know  little 

[10] 


GUESSING,  "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

or  nothing  about  the  origins  of  many  of  our 
beliefs;  and  this  is  as  true  of  the  most  instant 
and  truly  rational  among  them  as  it  is  of  the 
most  trivial  and  superstitious  or  unscientific. 
Positively  stated,  the  first  thing  that  we  do 
know  about  them  is  that  they  already  exist; 
they  are  there. 

We  may  illustrate  this  —  although  the  illus- 
tration is  confessedly  liable  to  misinterpretation 
—  by  the  beliefs  that  fuse  with  the  most 
ordinary  acts  of  knowledge  by  perception.  I 
know  that  the  thing  over  there  is  a  tree,  a  man, 
or  something  quite  different  from  either.  I  see 
that  it  is  so;  and  for  the  proof  that  it  is  really 
so,  I  ask  you  to  confirm  my  sight  by  voluntary 
use  of  your  own  faculties  of  vision.  I  point 
and  say,  "Look,  and  if  you  doubt  my  word, 
solve  your  doubt  by  an  act  of  knowledge  on 
your  own  part."  Or  I  say,  "There  will  be  an 
eclipse  of  the  moon  to-night ;"  and  if  I  am 
asked  for  something  to  give  "objective  suffi- 
ciency" to  my  "subjective  assurance,"  I 
respond,  "I  saw  it  in  the  morning  paper,"  or, 
"My  friend,  the  astronomer,  told  me  so." 
But  why  do  I  believe,  in  either  case,  that  the 
succession  of  my  sensations  and  ideas  has  its 
correlate  in  reality;  or  that  my  processes  of 

[111 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

inference  bind  the  order  of  the  world  in  some 
sort  to  conform  to  them?  In  answer  to  these 
questions,  psychology  can  make  shift  (if  it  is 
the  right  sort  of  psychology)  to  offer  some  at- 
tempt at  analysis  of  the  forms  of  experience  in 
which  this  belief  in  the  "extra-mental"  reali- 
ties grows  up  and  gets  itself  distributed  among 
my  Self,  other  selves,  and  things  that  are  not 
selves;  but  the  belief  itself,  with  its  clinging 
and  irresistible  conviction,  whip  it  around  the 
post  as  we  will,  depends  forever  on  its  own 
internal  and  invincible  evidence.  The  negative 
criticism  of  Kant,  and  all  the  subtilties  of  old- 
fashioned  "solipsism"  or  new-fashioned  "abso- 
lute empiricism,"  are  totally  without  effect  in 
undermining  or  weakening  this  "natural" 
belief. 

Here,  then,  —  to  state  the  same  truth  in 
somewhat  different  form  —  is  the  fundamental 
and  most  important  but  by  no  means  sole  dis- 
tinction between  that  attitude,  or  aspect  of 
any  attitude,  toward  an  object  or  a  proposition, 
which  we  call  belief,  and  that  other  attitude 
which  we  call  knowledge.  The  former  has 
reference  to  the  unexplained  and  largely  or 
wholly  inexplicable  assent  of  the  mind;  the 
latter  to  the  more  or  less  complete,  but  always 

[12] 


GUESSING,  "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

partial,  awareness  of  the  grounds  of  the  assent. 
These  grounds  may  be  either  causes,  as  in 
knowledge  of  facts  by  perception,  or  reasons,  as 
in  knowledge  gained  by  the  testimony  of  others 
or  by  the  use  of  our  powers  of  observation  and 
inference. 

We  do  not,  however,  play  the  gambler's  game 
of  hazarding  a  guess,  when  we  consent  to  these 
instinctive  beliefs.  Although  we  may  fitly 
distinguish,  as  does  Professor  Maher,  ("Psy- 
chology," p.  349)  between  "the  spontaneous 
faith  embodied  in  the  primitive  perceptive  act 
and  the  rational  conviction  evoked  in  the 
developed  consciousness  by  intellectual  percep- 
tion," the  distinction  does  not  necessarily 
involve  any  essential  change  in  the  intrinsic 
nature  of  faith  or  belief.  Instinctive  belief  is 
not  opposed  to  rational  conviction.  Does  not, 
the  rather,  such  belief  lie  at  the  base  of  all 
rational  conviction?  Belief  is  always  there, 
and  is  not  to  be  called  blind  or  irrational  simply 
because  it  does  not  announce  to  itself  in  con- 
sciousness either  the  causes  or  the  reasons  for 
its  presence.  As  a  causative  psychical  factor 
it  enters  essentially  into  every  intellectual 
process.  It  is  the  work  of  the  discriminating 
faculty,  or  intellect,  the  reflective  activity  of  the 

[131 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

mind,  which  is  to  discover  and  expand  the 
justification  of  belief,  and  thus  convert  otherwise 
blind  belief  into  rational  conviction.  This  work 
is  essential  to  man,  if  he  is  successfully  to  vindi- 
cate his  claim  to  be  something  more  and  higher 
than  the  animal  moved  by  instincts,  the  nature 
of  which  as  causes  he  does  not  recognize,  and 
the  reasonableness  of  which  as  contributing 
to  his  own  higher  intellectual  and  spiritual 
development  he  has  never  sought  to  inquire 
into  or  even  dimly  discerned.  Indeed,  this 
lifting  of  beliefs  into  the  heights  of  rational 
convictions,  this  exaltation  of  faith  as  simple 
assent  toward,  if  never  quite  into,  the  assurance 
of  knowledge,  is  both  the  right  and  the  obliga- 
tion of  the  spirit  that  is  in  man. 

To  the  distinction  between  causes  and  rea- 
sons, and  to  the  claims,  the  obligations,  and  the 
usefulness  of  rational  conviction,  in  science 
and  in  society,  but  above  all  in  morals  and  in 
religion,  we  shall  return  at  another  time.  We 
now  call  attention  only  to  the  fact  that  this 
spontaneous  and  unintelligible  characteristic 
of  belief  does  not  necessarily  render  it  any 
less  trustworthy,  whether  for  theoretical  pur- 
poses even  to  the  extent  of  helping  to  explain 
the  physical  Universe,  or  for  the  individual's 

[14] 


GUESSING,  "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

conduct  of  his  own  life.  When  we  say  that  we 
believe  in  the  fundamental  truths  of  science,  in 
the  testimony  of  the  senses,  or  in  the  axiomatic 
principles  of  mathematics  or  logic,  we  are  simply 
saying  that  the  convictions  which  attach  to 
these  propositions  are  of  the  first  degree  of 
certitude  as  knowledge.  In  morals  and  re- 
ligion, too,  the  same  thing  may  be  true.  In 
some  sort,  all  this  knowledge  walks  by  faith 
rather  than  by  sight,  as  indeed  the  wisest  of 
men  have  done  in  the  conduct  of  their  daily 
life.  But  this  conviction  does  not  deaden, 
and  it  should  only  stimulate,  the  desire  and 
the  effort  to  know  the  reason,  —  Why? 

The  old-fashioned  and  now  obsolete  word 
"Trowing"  is  the  one  which  has  been  used  to 
translate  that  attitude  of  mind  which  Kant 
placed  at  the  beginning  of  his  celebrated 
„  chapter,  entitled  "Of  Trowing,  Knowing,  and 
Believing."  He  supposed  this  arrangement  to 
represent  the  three  degrees  of  conviction  which 
maintain  themselves  with  regard  to  our  judg- 
ments "holding  anything  to  be  true."  Trowing 
is  "to  hold  a  judgment  true  with  the  conscious- 
ness that  our  judgment  rests  on  grounds  which 
are  insufficient  to  produce  a  firm  conviction." 
More  tersely  said,  trowing  is  to  hold  consciously 

[15] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

a  probable  judgment.  The  modern  phrase  is 
either  "I  am  of  the  opinion"  that  it  is  so  or  so; 
or  more  commonly  in  the  popular  language, 
"I  think"  that  it  is  so  or  so.  This  use  of  words 
shows  a  more  or  less  clear  recognition  of  the 
reasons,  or  grounds  of  inference,  on  which 
a  tentative  "knowledge- judgment"  might  in 
this  case  properly  be  placed  before  one's  own 
mind  or  before  the  mind  of  another  for  further 
consideration.  The  evidence  is  not  as  yet 
sufficient  to  produce  firm  conviction  of  either 
the  speaker  or  the  hearer.  In  such  cases,  if 
debate  arises,  it  is  both  polite  and  wise  to  say 
something  like  this:  "I  am  inclined  to  this 
opinion,  for  the  evidence,  so  far  as  it  is  at 
present  ascertainable  by  me,  seems  to  point 
to  this  conclusion.  But  what  do  you  think? 
x  This  is  the  evidence  I  have  to  present.  Can 
you  add  to  it,  or  confute  it?"  Thus  the  way 
is  open  for  discussion. 

Now  it  is  true  that  men  sometimes,  and 
indeed  many  men  habitually,  treat  their  most 
important  and  sacred  beliefs  in  largely  similar 
way.  But  this  is,  probably,  if  not  universally, 
because  they  are  trowing  or  merely  guessing, 
and  not  really  believing.  If  it  is  a  matter  of 
genuine  and  unfeigned  belief  (and  almost 
[161 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

equally  so  if  it  is  a  matter  of  genuine  and 
serious  doubt)  the  talk  takes  on  a  different 
tone.  Here  we  may  be  reminded  of  Tenny- 
son's saying: 

"There  lies  more  faith  in  honest  doubt, 
Believe  me,  than  in  hah*  the  creeds."        J 

Of  its  beliefs,  and  almost  equally  of  its  doubts, 
especially  in  matters  of  morals  and  religion,  the 
native  and  unreflective  mind  is  apt  to  appeal 
to  feeling  or  some  kind  of  unanalyzed  and  per- 
haps indescribable  sentiment.  One  will  frankly 
confess:  I  cannot  tell  why  I  hold  this  belief, 
or  how  it  came  to  me.  Or  perhaps  one  may 
plead  that  so  one's  parents  and  teachers  be- 
lieved before  one;  that  this  was  what  every- 
body believed  when  one  was  young,  —  the  belief 
in  which  one  was  brought  up,  so  to  say;  that 
it  is  the  belief  prescribed  by  the  moral  senti- 
ment of  one's  social  environment  or  by  the 
creed  of  the  religious  communion  of  which  one 
is  a  member.  To  believe  in  this  way  affords, 
therefore,  a  pleasant  satisfaction;  doubts  as 
to  intellectual  justification  of  such  a  belief  are 
disturbing  or  positively  disagreeable.  Doubts, 
when  they  become  negative  beliefs,  do  not 
differ  in  this  respect.  It  is  not  strange,  then, 
but  on  the  contrary  rather  appropriate  than 

[171 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

otherwise,  to  hear  this  mental  attitude  toward 
some  object,  or  proposition,  or  principle,  de- 
clared with  an  air  of  triumphing  over  objec- 
tions: "These  are  my  sentiments";  or,  "This 
is  what  I  cannot  help  feeling  to  be  true." 

It  is  this  characteristic  of  many  human  be- 
liefs, and  not  least  the  most  defensible  from  the 
theoretical  point  of  view  and  the  most  prac- 
tically useful,  which  justifies  Professor  Stout 
in  saying:  "Belief  is  the  word  specially  selected 
for  affirmation  or  denial  which  is  predominantly 
referable  to  practical  or  sentimental  motives." 
("Analytical  Psychology,"  vol.  I,  p.  97.) 
Now,  "practical  and  sentimental  motives" 
are  by  no  means  to  be  disregarded  in  estimat- 
ing not  only  the  affectional  satisfaction  and 
practical  benefit  of  the  person  who  cherishes 
them,  but  also  the  objective  and  universal 
validity  and  value  of  the  truths  to  which  the 
beliefs  attach  themselves.  To  show  how  this 
is  true  involves  a  distinction  between  the  sci- 
ence of  the  factual  causes  of  our  mental  states 
and  the  logic  and  metaphysics  which  detect  in 
them  the  reasons  for  and  against  our  intellec- 
tual construction  of  the  real  World  from  which 
these  causes  proceed  and  so  operate  upon  us  as 
motives  for  all  our  various  sentiments  and 

[181 


GUESSING,  "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

practical  activities.  Without  discussing  at  pres- 
ent this  distinction  between  causes  and  reasons 
we  may  appropriately  have  our  attention  called 
to  the  general  fact  that  the  sentiments  and 
beliefs  which  are  caused  by  our  own  experience, 
or  by  that  of  our  ancestors,  and  in  certain  cases 
of  the  entire  human  race,  are  bound  to  have 
an  influence  upon  our  ideas  of  the  truth  and  our 
ideals  of  the  right,  which  goes  far  beyond  any 
reasons  that  we  may  be  able  to  assign  in  justi- 
fication of  this  influence.  It  is  in  these  senti- 
mental and  practical  attitudes  toward  life  and 
reality,  in  the  beliefs  that  spring  from  the 
obscure  and  hitherto  hidden  roots  of  a  vast  and 
deep  soil  of  unanalyzed  human  experience,  that 
many  of  the  choicest  fruits  of  the  race's  de- 
velopment consist.  Many  beliefs  are  justified 
by  causes  which  the  minds  who  entertain  the 
beliefs  are  quite  unable  to  convert  into  reasons 
for  holding  them. 

We  have  heard  much  of  late  concerning 
instinct  and  so-called  intuition,  to  the  detri- 
ment and  despite  of  intellect  and  of  its  ration- 
alizing processes.  And  a  bad  much  of  this  has 
been  due  both  to  separating  things  that  are 
intimately  dependent  and  interrelated,  and  to 
failing  to  discriminate  where  the  differences 

[191 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

are  somewhat  important,  if  not  essential.  For, 
while  intellect  and  intuition  cannot  be  separated, 
but  are  dependent  each  upon  the  other,  and  feel- 
ing enters  into  both,  intuition,  in  its  blinder 
forms  of  instinct  and  belief,  must  not  be  trusted 
as  though  it  could  escape  all  responsibility  for 
an  answer  at  the  court  of  understanding. 

It  is  most  suggestive  in  this  connection  to 
notice  what  Aristotle  says  in  his  treatment  of 
the  so-called  "Intellectual  Virtues."  They 
are  the  output  of  the  "intuitive  reason."  For 
intuition  is  the  beginning  and  intuition  is  the 
end;  and  the  work  of  intellect  in  eliciting  and 
proving  the  truths  of  science  and  of  the  prac- 
tical life  lies  in  between.  At  the  beginning  of 
all  demonstration,  that  of  the  most  exact  of  the 
sciences  included,  stands  "intuitive  reason," 
which  "deals  with  ultimate  truths  in  both 
senses  of  the  word;  for  both  primary  principles 
and  ultimate  facts  are  apprehended  by  intui- 
tive reason  and  not  by  demonstration."  But 
"these  powers  are  believed  to  accompany  cer- 
tain periods  of  life,  and  a  certain  age  is  said  to 
bring  reason  and  judgment,  implying  that  they 
come  by  nature."  Then  almost  with  a  sur- 
prising naivete  the  great  thinker  goes  on  to 
say:  "And  on  this  account  we  ought  to  pay 

[20] 


GUESSING,  "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

the  same  respect  to  the  undemonstrated  asser- 
tions and  opinions  of  men  of  age  and  experience 
and  prudence  as  to  their  demonstrations.  For 
experience  has  given  them  a  faculty  of  vision 
which  enables  them  to  see  correctly."  This 
"faculty  of  vision"  which  is  born  of  experience 
is,  in  many  of  its  essential  aspects,  and  espe- 
cially on  the  side  of  sentiment,  feeling,  and  prac- 
tical prudence,  very  closely  allied  to  some  of 
our  choicest  beliefs.  From  this  point  of  view 
the  example  cited  by  Cardinal  Newman  (and 
there  are  innumerable  others  of  similar  char- 
acter and  significance)  of  the  value  of  special 
cases  of  "simple  assent"  to  the  articles  of 
Christian  faith,  is  by  no  means  void  of  argu- 
mentative force.  Of  Mother  Margaret  M. 
Hallahan,  the  Cardinal  says:  "Her  firm  faith 
was  of  so  vivid  a  character,  that  it  was  almost 
like  an  intuitive  vision  of  the  entire  prospect  of 
revealed  truth." 

The  part  which  imagination  plays  in  all 
belief  has  been  altogether  too  much  neglected 
by  all  those  who  have  attempted  to  make  its 
analysis  complete.  Image-making  and  idea- 
tion are  an  essential  part  of  every  act  of  knowl- 
edge, as  indeed  of  every  form  and  product  of 
the  activity  of  mental  life.  But  in  proper 

[21] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

belief,  this  constructive  activity  is  normally  of 
a  peculiar,  and  in  certain  instances  not  a  few, 
of  a  really  startling  character.  In  all  knowing 
by  the  senses,  it  is  not  the  senses  alone,  or  in 
co-operation,  which  are  responsible  for  the 
object  as  it  is  actually  seen,  heard,  felt  or 
handled.  To  construct  the  object  there  must 
be  recognition  as  a  form  of  mental  activity;  but 
there  cannot  be  recognition  without  participa- 
tion of  the  image-making  faculty.  Even  more 
obvious  is  it  that  there  can  be  no  memory  of 
any  object  of  sense  without  imagination.  But 
the  object  in  the  existence  of  which  we  believe 
is  seldom  or  never  a  mere  reproduction  of  any- 
thing of  which  we  have  had  experience  in  a 
purely  sensuous  way.  This  is  as  true  of  the 
beliefs  of  science  and  social  intercourse  as  it  is 
of  those  of  morals  and  religion.  The  chemist 
may  say  that  he  knows  the  chemical  composi- 
tion of  a  certain  substance;  for  he  and  others 
have  often  analyzed  it  and  found  it  to  be  so. 
The  physicist  may  claim  knowledge  of  the  vari- 
ous formulas  which  express  in  terms  of  quantity 
the  relations  of  the  different  kinds  of  things 
with  whose  properties  and  behavior  he  has 
become  familiar  in  terms  of  sense.  But  the 
entities  with  which  imagination  peoples  the 
[22] 


GUESSING,  "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

unseen  world  that  explains  the  phenomena 
exposed  to  sense  are,  the  rather,  subjects  for 
belief.  Of  all  this  class  of  beliefs  the  Duke  of  . 
Argyll  remarks  ("Philosophy  of  Belief,"  p. 
359):  "This  list,"  —  referring  to  the  sons  and 
daughters  of  faith  as  celebrated  in  the  Eleventh 
Chapter  to  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews, — "this 
list  begins  by  including  as  a  conception  in  the 
nature  of  faith,  one  idea  or  conviction  which 
belongs  essentially  to  the  sphere  of  science  or 
philosophy  —  the  conviction,  namely,  that  the 
visible  creation  has  been  made  out  of  things 
that  are  invisible."  And  in  the  same  connec- 
tion he  affirms:  "It  is  quite  as  true  in  the  sphere 
of  the  physical  sciences  as  it  is  true  in  the  sphere 
of  religion  and  philosophy,  that  the  things  which 
are  seen  are  temporal,  and  that  it  is  only  the 
things  which  are  not  seen  that  are  eternal." 
But  the  nature  and  the  very  existence  of  the 
things  unseen  and  eternal  remains  forever  chiefly 
a  matter  for  belief  rather  than  for  knowledge. 
And  to  construct  the  most  simple  picture,  not 
to  say  the  most  elaborate  conception,  of  such 
things  requires  the  outstretched  wing  of  the 
strong  and  ambitious  bird  of  imagination.  I 
know  that  I  see  the  sun,  and  that  in  its  light  this 
thing  seems  to  me  red,  the  other  green,  and 

[23] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

still  another  blue.  I  may  further  know  that 
by  certain  mechanical  devices  I  can  analyze 
the  complex  ray  of  white  light  and  get  these 
and  other  colors  arranged  in  a  certain  order 
along  the  spectrum.  But  I  can  only  believe 
in  the  adorable  and  divinely  great  and  judicious 
light-bearing  Ether,  the  god  who  is  ever  creat- 
ing and  reconstructing  this  earth  as  my  senses 
make  its  actual  changes  known  to  me.  For 
this  belief  I  must  borrow  the  wings  of  the  bird 
of  imagination;  otherwise  I  cannot  get  behind 
the  light  that  tints  the  flowers,  or  above  the 
dust  which  is  too  apt  to  soil  the  beauty  of  these 
flowers  for  me.  The  object  of  belief  invariably 
requires  creative,  and  not  merely  reproductive, 
imagination. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  imagination,  even  in 
the  lighter  form  of  "True  Romance,"  has  been 
called 

"The  spur  of  trust,  the  curb  of  lust, 
The  handmaid  of  the  gods." 

It  is  chiefly  in  the  faiths  of  morality  and 
religion  that  the  most  exalted  uses  of  the 
imagination  are  demanded  for  the  construction 
of  the  objects  believed  in,  as  well  as  the  proposi- 
tions touching  those  objects,  their  relations  to 
each  other,  and  our  relations  to  them.  For  the 

[24] 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

beliefs,  which  are  at  once  most  precious  and 
most  difficult,  concern  the  ideals  of  morality 
and  religion.  When  these  are  weak  and  low, 
the  whole  of  life  lacks  strength  and  dignity. 
And  alas!  for  the  man  who  must  sing  in  the 
words  of  Schiller's  ode  "To  the  Ideal," 

"  Gone  the  divine  and  sweet  believing 
In  dreams  which  Heaven  itself  unfurled." 

But  happy  is  the  man  who  in  thought  and  life 
can  respond  to  the  exhortation: 

"And  so,  noble  soul,  forget  not  the  law, 

And  to  the  true  faith  be  leal; 
What  ear  never  heard  and  eye  never  saw, 
The  Beautiful,  the  True,  —  they  are  real." 

This  dependence  of  the  reality  of  our  beliefs 
on  the  work  of  the  imagination  in  constructing 
some  attractive  picture  of  the  object  or  truth 
to  which  the  belief  attaches  itself,  is,  of  course,  "P 
especially  obvious  in  the  interests  of  our  more 
"appealing"  experiences.  Our  profounder  feel- 
ings, or  our  more  important  practical  needs, 
seem  to  demand  the  faith  in  something  which 
is  least  provided  for  by  the  observations  of  the 
senses,  or  by  those  inferences  from  these  obser- 
vations which  fall  strictly  within  the  limits  of 
the  sphere  we  are  entitled  to  call  "knowledge" 
in  the  stricter  meaning  of  the  word.  Imagina- 

[25] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

tion  responds  to  this  call;  and  lo!  the  demand 
is  satisfied.  Thus  the  assurance  of  faith,  its 
"ontological  consciousness,"  comes  out  of  the 
unexplored  depths  of  feeling.  It  comes,  how- 
ever, to  await  the  criticism  of  man's  reflective 
powers  for  its  purification  and  final  acceptance 
or  rejection.  To  the  savage,  the  invisible 
spirits  in  which  he  believes,  because  he  must 
explain  the  sensuously  visible  by  the  imagined 
invisible,  are  as  necessary  as  are  the  invisible 
atoms,  or  radio-active  molecules  to  the  modern 
chemist  or  physicist.  Both  classes  of  beliefs 
grow  out  of  the  spontaneous  necessities  of 
human  "ontological  consciousness."  The  work 
of  the  intellect  must  decide  which  is  the  more 
reasonable  of  the  two. 

At  this  point,  then,  we  may  return  again  to 
a  brief  notice  of  the  dependent  relations  of 
knowledge  and  belief.  We  have  seen  that, 
while  belief  is  like  guessing  in  its  customary 
lack  of  assurance  based  on  grounds  of  conscious 
inference;  that  it  often,  if  not  naturally  and 
habitually,  arises  in  the  mind,  we  know  not  how 
and  cannot  discover  whence;  it  is  in  other 
respects  quite  unlike  this  "gambler's  attitude" 
toward  the  issue  at  stake.  In  fact,  as  long  as  a 
man  merely  guesses,  he  does  not  really  believe 

[26] 


GUESSING,  "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

at  all.  Even  the  mad  conviction  as  to  the 
lucky  combination  of  numbers  or  cards  which 
is  to  bring  the  guess  to  an  issue  in  fact,  is  quite 
lacking  in  some  of  the  more  important  char- 
acteristics possessed  by  the  assurance  of  faith. 
So  also  is  "trowing,"  or  holding  an  opinion 
with  doubt  on  account  of  the  as  yet  inconclusive 
nature  of  the  grounds  on  which  it  is  held  at  all, 
like  belief,  or  faith,  in  some  particulars;  but 
unlike  it  in  even  more  important  other  par- 
ticulars. It  is  sentiments  or  practical  needs 
in  which  our  beliefs,  more  than  our  knowledge- 
judgments,  chiefly  have  their  origin.  But  in 
the  case  of  the  greater  beliefs,  whether  of  the 
scientific  and  social  or  of  the  moral  and  religi- 
ous order,  these  sentiments  and  needs  are  pro- 
found, persistent  and  universal.  Dubitation 
about  them  is,  therefore,  a  much  more  serious 
affair  and  involves  much  more  of  superior 
practical  importance.  About  them,  we  do 
not  wish  simply  to  "trow";  to  them  we  wish 
either  to  pin  our  faith  or  to  have  done  with 
the  irritating  pricking  of  everlasting  doubt. 
We  wish  this;  how  shall  we  attain  our  wish, 
or  even  make  good  and  notable  advances  toward 
its  attainment?  We  must  bring  reason  to  bear 
upon  these  faiths  for  their  purification  or  their 

[27] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

support.  We  must  recognize  their  possible 
kinship  to  knowledge.  But  we  must  not  forget 
that,  since  the  best  of  them  are  not  the  off- 
spring of  sense,  brought  to  the  birth  by  pure 
intellect  (as  though  there  were  any  such  activ- 
ity as  pure  intellect),  our  primary  aim  cannot 
reasonably  be  to  prove  them  as  the  demonstra- 
tive or  strictly  inductive  sciences  need  proof, 
but  to  "purify  and  support"  them. 

We  have  already  quoted  the  words  of  Aris- 
totle when  he  classes  a  deference  which  amounts 
to  an  inclination  to  believe  in,  if  it  does  not 
amount  to  a  confirmed  faith  in,  the  undemon- 
strated  opinions  of  experienced,  wise  and  prudent 
souls,  as  one  of  the  chief  est  and  most  practically 
useful  of  the  "intellectual  virtues."  Such 
belief,  he  holds,  reposes  in  a  kind  of  intuitive 
vision  of  the  truth.  It  is  thus  brought  very 
close  to  knowledge  with  respect  to  its  claim 
for  acceptance  on  grounds  of  its  reasonableness. 

The  present  tendency  to  minimize  and  dis- 
credit the  authority  of  reason  in  respect  to  the 
greater  faiths,  and  to  the  conduct  of  life  in 
accordance  with  them,  seems  to  us  so  dangerous 
in  its  practical  outcome  as  to  demand  a  very 
distinct  disavowal  by  every  one  interested  in 
conserving  the  most  valuable  of  our  social, 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

moral,  and  religious  convictions  and  opinions, 
whether  formulated  or  not.  We  shall  return 
to  the  attack  upon  this  tendency  again  and 
yet  again.  Just  now,  and  as  connected  with 
a  partial  analysis  of  the  essential  nature 
of  belief,  we  may  content  ourselves  with 
saying  that  the  declaration  of  Mr.  Balfour 
("Foundations  of  Belief,"  8th  ed.,  p.  237): 
"Nor  is  the  comparative  pettiness  of  the  role 
thus  played  by  reasoning  in  human  affairs  a 
matter  for  regret,"  —  is  as  unwarranted  by 
this  analysis  as  it  is  untrue  to  the  facts  of  his- 
tory. The  office  of  reflective  thinking  always 
has  been,  and  must  always  continue  to  be, 
that  of  revealing  the  truth  or  the  falsity  of 
man's  "cryptic  beliefs."  That  certain  beliefs 
carry  with  them  a  certain  large  measure  of 
proof  to  the  individuals  who  have  them,  and 
who  rest  satisfied  in  the  evidence  of  a  subjec- 
tive and  internal  character  that  is  an  essential 
part  of  the  beliefs  themselves,  is  undoubtedly 
true.  But  this  fact  does  not  remove  or  shield 
these,  or  other  beliefs,  from  perpetual  inquiry 
as  to  their  causes,  their  reasonableness,  and 
their  available  practical  usefulness,  both  for 
those  who  so  tenaciously  hold  them  and  for  the 
race  at  large.  Even  if  the  essence  of  belief 

[29] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

is  to  furnish  a  kind  of  convincing  internal 
evidence,  that  evidence  itself  needs  constant 
revision  and  new  interpretation.  Especially 
is  it  necessary  in  all  cases  to  discover  just  where 
the  assurance  of  belief  has  located  itself;  pre- 
cisely what  it  is  of  which  the  belief  makes  sure. 
For  many  and  sad  and  mischievous  are  the 
mistakes  of  judgment  and  of  conduct  which 
hover  around  this  point  of  fixation  in  the  pro- 
tested belief.  For  example:  I  see  a  figure  in 
the  dimly  lighted  air  of  the  room  where  the 
spiritualistic  seance  is  being  held.  I  have  the 
assurance  of  knowledge  that  this  is  so;  and  as 
well,  perhaps,  that  this  figure  resembles  in  a 
remarkable  way  that  of  my  deceased  friend. 
But  is  this  sufficient  to  assure  the  belief  that 
it  really  is  the  materialization  of  the  spirit  of 
my  deceased  friend?  Investigations  conducted 
under  the  control  of  intellectual  processes  must 
have  something  important  to  say  in  answer  to 
this  latter  question.  I  see  the  ribbons  enter 
into  the  empty  bag  and  the  live  rabbits  hatched 
in  the  emptiness  appear  at  once  with  the  rib- 
bons around  their  necks.  I  know  I  seem  to 
see;  I  believe  the  bag  is  really  empty  and  that 
the  rabbits  come  out  of  that  empty  bag.  But 
of  what  is  it  in  this  complex  attitude  toward 
[30] 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

the  facts,  of  which  I  wish  to  claim  that  I  am 
really  sure  with  the  assurance  of  knowledge? 

In  general,  belief  enters  into  the  assurance  of 
the  knowledge  which  comes  through  the  most 
ordinary  operations  of  the  senses.  But  as  to 
the  validity  and  the  point  of  repose  which  is 
essential  to  the  belief,  discriminating  judgment 
and  the  critical  activity  of  the  intellect  must 
invariably  be  employed. 

The  great,  the  truly  pathetic  fact  in  the  his- 
tory of  man's  spiritual  development,  is  his 
ceaseless  struggle  for  harmony  between  his 
growing  knowledge  of  things  and  his  profound- 
est,  most  persistent,  and  practically  valuable 
beliefs.  Nothing  but  mischief  comes  from  the 
effort  to  ignore  or  degrade  either  intellect  or 
sentiment  and  practical  considerations  in  the 
conduct  of  this  struggle.  The  beliefs  must  be 
made  increasingly  reasonable.  Reason  must 
increasingly  be  chastened  and  spiritualized  and 
rendered  serviceable  to  the  ideals  and  experiences 
which  have  supreme  value.  Increasing  har- 
mony of  the  complex  attitude  of  man  toward 
the  world  of  things,  toward  his  own  complex 
nature  as  a  personal  life,  toward  other  persons, 
and  toward  God,  is  the  chief  thing  to  be  sought; 
and  it  is  the  only  issue  of  this  ceaseless  struggle 

[31] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

which  can  be  accepted  by  the  truly  rational 
mind. 

As  to  the  bearing  of  this  truth  on  certain 
classes  of  human  beliefs,  I  may  be  permitted 
to  quote  from  another  treatise  ("Philosophy  of 
Religion,"  vol.  I,  p.  319):  "Religion  stands  in 
special  need  of  this  process  of  separation  and 
purification  for  the  work  which  it  calls  upon  the 
creative  imagination  to  perform;  and  the  chief 
reasons  for  this  need  are  the  following  two. 
Its  primary  beliefs  are  essentially  of  the  in- 
visible, the  non-sensible,  the  somehow  super- 
human,  the  Self  that  is  other  than  myself. 
Moreover,  the  practical  and  emotional  interests 
to  which  the  work  of  religious  imagination  is 
committed  are  so  immediate  and  impressive 
as  the  more  easily  to  override  the  considera- 
tions upon  which  the  scientific  development  of 
man  lays  so  much  emphasis.  Superstitious 
beliefs,  born  of  unworthy  and  irrational  hopes 
and  fears  and  desires,  have  never  been  confined 
to  religion.  But,  in  religion,  on  account  of  its 
very  nature,  they  have  been  most  potent  and 
difficult  to  modify  or  remove.  Hence,  the 
necessity,  but  also  the  embarrassment  and  the 
delicacy,  of  improving  the  work  of  imagination 
in  the  construction  of  an  Object  of  religious 

[32] 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"   BELIEVING 

belief  which  shall  worthily  fit  in  with  the  sys- 
tem of  human  experience,  rationally  regarded 
and,  as  far  as  possible,  scientifically  explained. 

"The  religious  development  of  mankind  is 
dependent  upon  the  harmonious  activity  of 
imagination  and  intellect  in  providing  an 
Object,  which  shall  accord  with  scientific  de- 
velopment, and  shall  also  keep  pace  with  the 
ethical  and  sesthetical  feelings,  and  with  the 
growing  practical  and  social  needs  of  the  race. 
This  truth  follows,  as  of  necessity,  from  what  we 
know  respecting  the  genesis  and  development 
of  religion.  But  its  explanation  and  proof 
requires  the  consideration  of  the  important 
part  which  the  intellect  takes  in  man's  religious 
life  and  development." 

In  his  Theologische  Ethik  that  rather  abstruse 
and  difficult  but  astonishingly  suggestive  writer, 
Dr.  Richard  Rothe,  makes  the  claim  that  in 
its  blending  of  belief  and  knowledge  the  moral 
and  religious  view  of  the  world  is  every  whit 
as  securely  founded  in  man's  reason  as  is  the 
scientific  view.  Just  as  in  all  science  there  is 
involved  both  perception  (the  intuitive  element) 
and  reflection  (the  activity  of  thought),  so  in 
religion  there  is  that  immediate  grasping  of 
the  truth  which  we  call  faith,  and  the  reflec- 

[33] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

tion  which  evolves  the  contents  of  faith  and 
so  makes  legitimate  the  systems  of  theology. 
This  two-sided  activity  of  the  self-conscious 
will  affords  by  faith  a  picture  of  the  world  which 
is  quite  as  truly  entitled  to  our  acceptance,  for 
corresponding  to  the  reality,  as  is  the  picture  of 
the  same  world  when  drawn  by  the  positive 
sciences.  We  are,  indeed,  not  as  yet  quite 
ready  to  justify  this  claim  of  Rothe,  as  arising 
out  of  the  very  nature  of  all  belief;  but  we  seem 
by  our  analysis  to  be  preparing  the  way  for  it. 
True,  this  world  "believed  in,"  like  the  world 
"sensed-of,"  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  freed  from 
all  testing  by  the  growth  of  experience,  the 
accumulations  of  fact,  the  criticism  of  intellect. 
?  It  may  be  as  absurd,  however,  to  say,  "I  will 
not  believe  in  this  thing,  because  I  cannot  see, 
hear,  handle,  smell,  or  taste  it,"  as  to  say,  "I 
will  not  trust  my  senses  in  seeing,  hearing, 
handling  and  smelling  or  tasting  things,  because 
I  believe  in  a  really  different  world  from  that 
to  which  they  testify." 

In  emphasizing  the  work  of  imagination  in 
constructing,  and  of  intellect  in  criticising,  the 
object  of  belief,  we  have  already  introduced 
the  discussion  of  the  propriety  and  meaning  of 
the  phrase  in  recent  times  so  current,  —  "The 

[34] 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"   BELIEVING 

will  to  believe."  For  imagination  and  intellect 
are  forms  of  activity,  and  the  term  "will"  is 
most  properly  applied  to  the  entire  active  side 
of  human,  because  personal,  mental  life.  The 
will-to-believe,  therefore,  manifests  itself,  in 
its  primary  and  initial  stages,  and  yet  extremely 
important  form,  in  the  willingness  to  attend 
and  inquire  respecting  the  grounds  of  belief. 
But  there  is  something  far  more  profound  in 
the  phrase  than  would  be  indicated  by  an  ad- 
mission like  this.  There  are  human  beliefs, 
and  not  a  few  of  them,  on  which  the  will  lays 
hold  with  a  strength  and  tenacity  of  grip  which 
can,  by  no  manner  of  sophistry,  be  made  to 
appear  as  merely  the  result  of  a  passive  sub- 
mission to  the  authority  of  others,  or  even  to 
the  compelling  pressure  of  any  consciously 
recognized  and  clearly  understood  argument. 
For,  as  has  often  been  pointed  out  by  all  writers 
on  the  subject,  we  do  not  accept  our  most 
assured  faiths  as  we  do  the  conclusions  of  a 
demonstration  in  geometry,  or  the  inductions 
of  a  long  and  carefully  guarded  series  of  labora- 
tory experiments.  We,  the  rather,  seem  to 
make  more  or  less  voluntary  selections  among 
them;  although  the  reasons  for  our  choice  are 
by  no  means  always  self-evident,  are,  in  fact, 

[35] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

often  obscure,  or  if  recognized  at  all,  are  far 
from  affording  a  complete  logical  satisfaction. 
The  part  that  so-called  "Will"  bears  in  belief 
is,  therefore,  so  important  as  to  demand  a 
somewhat  more  detailed  and  separate  treatment. 

The  very  form  in  which  we  have  raised  our 
general  question  connects  it,  however  slightly 
and  indirectly,  with  the  idea  of  obligation. 
What  should  I  believe?  But  why  "should," 
rather  than  can,  or  may,  or  must,  or  ought? 
Some  reader  will  be  saying:  "You  may  think 
that  I  should  believe  some  things  which  I  can- 
not believe;  or  that  I  should  not  believe  some 
other  things  which  I  think  it  a  privilege  to 
believe,  or  which  I  even  find  myself  under 
obligation  to  my  intelligence  or  to  my  acquaint- 
ance with  the  positive  sciences,  to  believe. 
And  if  by  this  word  '  should '  you  mean  to  imply 
moral  obligation  in  the  more  precise  and  com- 
pelling use,  why  do  you  not  come  out  boldly 
and  show  the  courage  of  your  conviction,  that, 
forsooth!  you  can  teach  me,  or  any  other  ra- 
tional being,  what  we,  who  differ  from  you  in 
your  beliefs,  really  ought  to  believe?"  Softly, 
Friend!  for  I  do  not  think  myself  wise  enough 
to  define  narrowly,  much  less  to  dictate,  beliefs 
to  any  other,  even  the  weakest  intellectually 

[361 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

of  living  men.  I  am,  on  the  contrary,  some- 
what firmly  convinced  of  the  truth  of  what 
Goethe  said:  "Faith  is  private  capital,  to  be 
kept  in  one's  own  house.  There  are  public 
savings-banks  and  loan-offices,  which  supply 
individuals  in  their  day  of  need;  but  here  the 
creditor  quietly  takes  his  interest  for  himself." 
But  I  also  believe  what  the  same  author  said 
in  his  "Essay  on  Shakespeare":  "Through 
the  feeling  'I  should'  (Solleri)  tragedy  becomes 
great  and  forceful;  through  merely  'willing' 
(Wollen)  it  remains  weak  and  petty." 

By  this  word,  then  (the  word  "should"),  it 
is  intended  to  call  to  mind  and  continually  to 
emphasize  the  truth  that  the  forming  and 
constant  reforming  of  our  beliefs  —  where  they 
are  shown  to  need  reforming  —  is  a  matter 
of  moral  concernment  and  truly  involves  us  in 
a  somewhat  complicated  net-work  of  subtle 
and  difficult  obligations.  But  this  could  not 
be  so,  if  our  wills  had  nothing  to  do  with  this 
process.  However,  the  very  nature  of  belief 
is  such  that  the  obligation  is  not  generally,  is 
perhaps  only  rarely,  so  definite  and  definitely 
compulsory  as  that  which  we  feel  with  respect 
to  the  practical  distinctions  we  demand  in 
matters  of  the  right  and  wrong  of  conduct. 

[37] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

On  the  whole,  then,  it  would  seem  that  there 
is  no  hope  of  defining  all  kinds  and  shades  of 
belief  in  some  off-hand  way,  so  as  to  fit  the 
definition  for  the  immediate  acceptance  of  any 
unsophisticated  mind  which  consults  the  dic- 
tionary expecting  to  discover  there  in  a  form  of 
words  what  will  save  him  the  trouble  of  doing 
a  bit  —  indeed  many  bits  —  of  hard  and  sober 
thinking.  Our  beliefs  are  very  serious  affairs. 
Out  of  them,  even  more  than  out  of  our  knowl- 
edges, come  the  issues  of  life  and  death.  But 
Belief  itself  is  an  extremely  complicated  and 
shifty  affair.  Its  origin,  in  the  meaning  of  the 
actual  causes  which  have  brought  it  to  the 
birth,  is  almost  uniformly  hidden  down  and 
back  in  darkest  recesses  of  the  individual's 
personal  or  ancestral,  or  even  racial,  develop- 
ment. Its  influential  reasons  are  not  clearly 
discernible  by  the  intellect;  otherwise,  it  is  on 
the  borders  where  belief  becomes  largely  if  not 
wholly  identical  with  knowledge. 

In  respect  of  the  confidence  of  belief,  the 
assurance  of  faith,  the  steadiness  and  tenacity 
with  which  the  mind  holds  to  the  truth  of  its 
invisible  objective,  this  differs  all  the  way 
from  the  border-land  of  doubt  to  depths  and 
heights  which  no  available  arguments  are  able 

[38] 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"  BELIEVING 

to  weaken  or  assault  with  any  confidence  of 
their  own. 

In  constructing  the  object  of  belief,  the 
imagination  is  habitually  operative  in  a  some- 
what peculiar  way.  In  general,  the  thing 
believed  in  is  the  invisible,  the  non-sensuous, 
the  universal  ideal  or  some  example  of  it. 
But  this  mental  construction  may  be  some- 
what sluggishly  and  impassively  accepted  from 
others,  as  when  children  believe  that  babies 
are  handed  down  from  heaven,  or  that  fairies 
dance  on  the  leaves  of  the  lilies,  or  play  hide- 
and-go-seek  among  their  stalks.  But  for  the 
greater  beliefs  of  science  and  religion,  the  most 
transcendent  powers  of  the  most  lofty  and 
gifted  human  imaginations  are  taxed  beyond 
their  utmost  capacity  in  the  effort  to  form 
objects  worthy  of  their  attachment. 

Nor  can  the  intellect  and  reasoning  faculties 
of  man  be  neglected  or  flouted  by  any  form  or 
degree  of  human  beliefs.  Whether  it  be  hob- 
goblins and  ghosts,  or  Ether  and  Energy,  in 
which  men  believe  for  the  explanation  of  daily 
happenings,  the  belief  cannot  continue  to  shut 
the  door  in  the  face  of  observation,  experiment, 
and  reasoning.  Whether  the  belief  be  in  the 
atoms  and  the  ions, 

F391 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

"We,  they  cry,  are  now  creators, 
Allah  now  may  rest  at  last," 

or  in  the  man-like  gods  of  the  most  primitive 
forms  of  religion,  or  in  the  loftiest  conceptions 
of  Deity  ever  framed  by  philosopher  or  theo- 
logian, the  rights  of  the  intellect  cannot  be 
denied.  No  hand  may  slam  the  door  in  its 
face.  In  the  true  meaning  of  both  words, 
neither  Faith  nor  Reason  can  assume  exclusive 
control  of,  and  unlimited  service  from,  the 
mind  and  life  of  man.  But  in  the  true  meaning 
of  the  words,  and  in  the  true  use  of  the  facul- 
ties corresponding  to  these  words,  Faith  and 
Reason  are  not  antagonistic,  but  correlative 
and  supplementary.  This  does  not  mean, 
however,  that  all  our  beliefs  must  be  scientifi- 
cally demonstrated,  or  even  that  they  all  admit 
of  such  demonstration.  But  as  little  does  it 
mean  that  any  of  them  can  ever  escape  the  re- 
quisition to  inquire  into  its  own  reasons,  and 
to  strive  continually  to  make  itself  more  and 
more  pure  and  serviceable  by  becoming  more 
and  more  reasonable. 

We  shall  not  be  far  from  the  truth,  then,  if 
we  describe  the  nature  and  province  of  belief 
somewhat  as  follows.  The  world  of  sense  and 
of  the  forms  and  laws  which  the  intellect  con- 

[401 


GUESSING,   "TROWING,"   BELIEVING 

structs  on  a  basis  of  sensuous  perception,  is 
underlain  and  interpenetrated  and  over-topped 
by  another  sort  of  world.  In  this  world  those 
sentiments  and  practical  demands  of  the  mind 
that  concern  the  invisible  and  the  ideal  have 
their  peculiar  influence.  It  is  the  world  of  the 
things  believed  in  rather  than  known  as  is  the 
world  of  the  things  of  sense.  Its  causes  lie, 
often  very  obscure  and  generally  deeply-hidden, 
in  the  constitution  of  the  individual  and  of  the 
race.  The  forms,  the  beliefs  themselves,  are 
more  akin  to  instinct  and  to  intuition  than  to 
scientific  formulas.  But  they,  too,  by  the  grow- 
ing intelligence  and  reflective  energy  of  the 
individual  and  of  the  race,  may  be  made  in- 
creasingly more  reasonable.  For  what  Saint 
Bernard  said  of  Reason  and  religious  Faith  has 
a  certain  truthfulness  for  all  kinds  of  belief: 
"These  two  comprehend  the  sure  truth;  but 
faith,  in  closed  and  involuted,  intelligence,  in 
exposed  and  manifest,  form." 

Out  of  this  view  of  the  nature  of  belief  fol- 
lows the  propriety  and  possible  usefulness  of 
attempting,  at  least  partially,  the  question: 
What  should  I  believe?  in  its  relation  to  the 
two  other  questions,  What  can  I  know?  and 
What  ought  I  to  do? 

[411 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

rHE  brilliant  writer  on  psychology, 
whose  name  has  been  most  conspicu- 
ously connected  with  the  phrase 
chosen  for  the  title  to  this  Chapter,  announced 
his  doctrine  in  a  paper  read  some  twenty  years 
ago  before  the  Philosophical  Club  of  Yale  Uni- 
versity. Quite  naturally,  it  was  given  at  the 
first  in  a  comparatively  undeveloped,  not  to 
say  crude  form.  But  so  suggestive  was  the 
phrase  that  it  was  speedily  taken  up  by  a  series 
of  controversial  essays  which,  while  few  or  none 
of  them  penetrated  deeply  enough  into  the 
subject  to  effect  a  complete  analysis,  served  to 
assist  its  practical  applications  by  clearing  a 
path  between  two  extreme  and  equally  un- 
tenable views.  One  of  these  views  attached 
itself  to  the  most  extravagant  form  of  the  Prag- 
matism which  then  followed.  It  assisted  this 
Pragmatism,  through  an  appeal  to  the  emotions 
and  the  prevailing  reluctance  to  think  pro- 
foundly and  conclusively,  in  its  attacks  on  so- 
[421 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

/"called  "Rationalism."     Belief,  if  fervid  enough 
|     in  feeling,  and  sufficiently  backed  up  by  the 
\     wish  to  have  things  really  so,  and  by  the  impres- 
sion that  the  practical  interests  of  men  would 
/    fare  better  if  things  were  really  so,  was  made 
to   usurp    the   province   of   intellect.     To   the 
1    work  of  clear  thinking  and  carefully  controlled 
argument  (to  refer  again  to  the  words  already 
quoted  from  Mr.   Balfour)   a   "petty  role  in 
human  affairs"  was  somewhat  contemptuously 
assigned. 

In  another  system  of  philosophy — that,  espe- 
cially, of  M.  Bergson  —  intellect  was  essentially 
separated  from  so-called  intuition,  and  the 
latter  applauded  as  a  distinct  and  superior 
kind  of  mental  functioning  for  the  attainment 
of  truth.  All  these  forms  of  the  depreciation 
of  the  rationalistic,  the  only  scientific  and 
philosophical  method  of  systematizing  and 
making  understandable  the  facts  and  laws  of 
human  experience,  both  with  things  and  with 
selves,  were  really  offspring  in  pretty  nearly 
direct  line  of  Schopenhauer's  theory  of  "The 
Will  to  Live."  For  as  every  student  knows, 
Schopenhauer  reduced  the  intellect  to  the 
"petty  role"  of  the  tool,  or  slave,  serving  in  a 
purely  mechanical  and  unconscious  way  the 

[431 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

purposes  of  the  blind  and  unreasoning  Will  to 
Live. 

This  extreme  style  of  appreciating  the  prov- 
ince, the  rights,  and  the  obligations  of  the 
"will  to  believe,"  aroused  and  fostered,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  the  opposite  no  more  tenable,  and 
perhaps  little  less  dangerous,  extreme.  The 
latter  exaggerated  the  claims  of  the  positive 
sciences;  denied  the  freedom  of  the  Self  in  the 
midst,  so  to  say,  of  its  beliefs,  whether  instinc- 
tive or  rational,  whether  of  degrading  credulity 
or  of  exalted  faith;  and,  on  the  contrary, 
affirmed  the  right  and  the  possibility,  and  even, 
where  it  admitted  any  such  thing  as  a  genuinely 
moral  attitude  of  mind,  the  obligation,  to  live 
by  pure  intellect  alone.  Human  beliefs,  how- 
ever precious,  ancient  and  practically  useful, 
if  they  could  not  be  demonstrated  in  geomet- 
rical fashion,  or  derived  by  strictly  experi- 
mental methods  under  the  safeguards  against 
error  which  apply  to  the  laboratories  of  physics, 
chemistry  and  biology,  were  to  be  at  once 
assigned  to  the  scrap-heap  of  "exploded" 
superstitions.  On  the  one  hand,  then,  we 
seemed  seduced  into  a  hot-house  of  unreasoned 
beliefs;  on  the  other,  driven  into  a  desert  barren 
of  all  the  faiths,  hitherto  esteemed  most  pre- 

[44] 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

cious,  and  found  most  practically  useful  by  all 
humanity. 

In  beginning  to  discuss  the  essential  morality 
of  believing,  and  the  relations  which  our  faiths 
sustain  to  the  free  and  responsible  development 
of  the  Self,  and  to  the  honorable  and  safe  con- 
duct of  the  practical  life,  it  is  important  to  avoid 
both  of  the  untenable  extremes  which  have  just 
been  described.  Such  an  escape  can  be  effected, 
however,  only  if  we  grasp  firmly  the  essence  of 
the  truth  embodied  in  the  phrase,  "The  will  to 
believe";  and  then  somewhat  carefully  think 
our  way  through  its  limitations.  That  there  is 
essential  truth  in  this  way  of  stating  the  atti- 
tude of  mind  involved  in  believing,  we  might 
argue  from  the  hoary  age  and  respectable 
lineage  of  the  statement  itself.  For  the  doc- 
trine of  the  will  to  believe  in  its  modern  form 
contains  nothing  essentially  new. 

Of  all  the  ancient  writers  on  themes  of  phi- 
losophy in  its  application  to  life,  if  we  may 
judge  from  the  fragments  remaining,  there 
were  few  or  none  who  combined  common-sense 
with  shrewd  reflective  thinking  in  a  degree 
superior  to  the  lame  slave,  Epictetus.  In  his 
"Discourse  of  Eloquence"  he  says:  "Whether 
we  ought  to  believe  or  disbelieve  what  is  said; 

[45] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

or  whether,  if  we  do  believe,  we  ought  to  be 
moved  by  it,  or  not;  what  is  it  that  decides  us? 
Is  it  not  the  faculty  of  will?"  And  "Concern- 
ing the  Academics,"  who  refused  to  believe  in 
the  existence  of  universal  truths,  he  declares: 
"Now  there  are  two  sorts  of  obstinacy;  the 
one,  of  the  intellect;  the  other,  of  the  will. 
A  man  may  obstinately  set  himself  not  to 
assent  to  evident  truths,  nor  to  quit  the  de- 
fence of  contradictions.  We  all  dread  a  bodily 
paralysis,  and  would  make  use  of  every  con- 
trivance to  avoid  it;  but  none  of  us  is  troubled 
about  a  paralysis  of  the  soul."  The  best  of  the 
ancient  Stoic  doctrine,  like  the  Christian  doc- 
trine, was  essentially  this:  that  a  man's  attitude 
of  will  toward  the  Divine  Will,  as  the  latter  is 
expressed  in  all  man's  experiences,  is  what  de- 
termines practical  success  in  the  conduct  of 
life.  If,  then,  we  consider  faith  in  God  to  be 
the  essential  of  subjective  religion,  the  will  to 
believe  becomes  the  ethical  guaranty  of  a 
truly  blessed  and  noble  life.  The  faith  that 
saves,  wills  as  does  the  Divine  Will. 

In  all  modern  literature,  at  least  of  the  phi- 
losophical type,  it  is  in  the  treatment  of  "Faith" 
by  Fichte  in  the  Third  book  of  his  "The  Des- 
tiny of  Man,"  that  we  find  the  loftiest  and  most 

[461 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

courageous  defence  of  this  attitude  toward 
truth  and  reality,  of  the  free  will  of  man. 
"Shall  I  refuse,"  he  asks,  "obedience  to  that 
Inward  Voice?  I  will  not  do  it.  I  will  choose 
voluntarily  the  destination  which  the  impulse 
imputes  to  me.  And  I  will  grasp,  together  with 
this  determination,  the  thought  of  its  reality 
and  truth,  and  of  the  reality  of  all  that  it  pre- 
supposes. I  will  hold  to  the  view-point  of 
natural  thinking,  which  this  impulse  assigns 
to  me,  and  renounce  all  those  morbid  specula- 
tions and  refinements  of  the  understanding 
which  alone  could  make  me  doubt  its  truth.  I 
understand  Thee  now,  Sublime  Spirit!  ...  I 
have  found  the  organ  with  which  I  grasp  this 
reality  and  with  it,  probably,  all  other  reality. 
Knowledge  is  not  that  organ.  No  knowledge 
can  prove  and  demonstrate  itself.  Every  knowl- 
edge presupposes  a  higher  as  its  foundation; 
and  this  upward  process  has  no  end.  It  is 
Faith,  that  voluntary  reposing  in  the  view 
which  naturally  presents  itself,  because  it  is 
the  only  one  by  which  we  can  fulfil  our  desti- 
nation —  this  it  is  that  first  gives  assent  to 
knowledge,  and  exalts  to  certainty  and  con- 
viction what  might  otherwise  be  mere  illusion. 
It  is  not  knowledge,  but  a  determination  of  the 

[47] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

will  to  let  knowledge  pass  for  valid.  I  hold 
fast,  then,  forever  to  this  expression.  It  is 
not  mere  difference  of  terms,  but  a  real  deep- 
grounded  distinction,  exercising  a  very  impor- 
tant influence  on  my  whole  mental  disposition. 
All  my  conviction  is  only  faith,  and  is  derived 
from  a  disposition  of  the  mind,  not  from  the 
understanding . ' ' 

In  order  to  appreciate  the  essential  truth 
which  is  in  all  the  protestations,  both  ancient 
and  modern,  of  the  dependence  of  one's  beliefs 
and  faiths  on  that  active  attitude  toward  them 
which  we  call  the  will,  and  as  well  the  legiti- 
mate claims  to  right  and  obligation,  and  to  a 
large  practical  utility,  which  this  attitude 
involves,  we  must  clear  our  minds  of  the  false 
contrasts  and  oppositions  that  are  so  often 
involved  in  the  language  employed  by  the  dis- 
putants on  the  different  sides.  Stated  in  a 
broad  and  general  way,  the  truth  is  involved 
in  an  undoubted  fact  of  experience.  The  be- 
liefs and  faiths  of  mankind,  whether  of  the 
scientific,  social,  moral  or  religious  sort,  are 
not  just  passively  received  and  passively  con- 
tinued in  the  possession  of  our  minds  and  in  the 
control  of  our  lives.  We  are  not  altogether 
slavishly  obsessed  by  our  beliefs.  They  de- 

[48] 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

pend,  in  some  degree  at  least,  on  our  attitude 
toward  them  as  being  ourselves  free  wills,  — 
wishing,  desiring,  hoping,  choosing,  and  acting 
according  to  these  wishes,  desires,  hopes,  and 
choices. 

But  especially  must  it  be  made  clear  that  our 
rational  natures  issue  imperious  and  unceasing 
demands  upon  us  to  bring  our  wishes,  desires, 
hopes,  and  choices  into  accord  with  reason,  and 
with  the  facts  of  reality,  and  with  the  obliga- 
tions of  morally  right  conduct.  Hence,  we, 
in  some  sort,  essay  as  wills  to  determine  what 
our  beliefs  and  faiths  shall  be,  and  as  to  how 
they  shall  shape  themselves  in  their  assumption 
to  take  control  of  our  lives.  But  this  freedom, 
like  all  human  freedom,  is  more  or  less  strictly 
limited,  dependent  upon  heredity,  environment, 
habit,  and  the  thousands  of  varying  degrees 
and  shades  in  combination  of  those  restrictive- 
forces  which  condition  the  development  of  the 
infinite  individuality  of  personal  life. 

Nor  are  the  conditions,  that  limit  and  vary 
the  amount  and  kind  of  freedom  in  different 
persons,  making  the  will  to  believe  much  more 
rational  and  efficient  in  some  cases  than  in 
others,  determined  wholly  by  the  individual 
peculiarities  of  these  different  persons.  They 

[49] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

are  also  quite  as  strictly,  and  in  a  valuable  way, 
determined  by  the  nature  of  the  beliefs  and 
faiths  themselves.  For  there  are  some  beliefs 
which  almost  any  man  can  easily  learn  to  throw 
off;  or,  on  the  contrary,  learn  to  accept  by  an 
act  of  will.  And  of  these  there  are  not  a  few 
which  it  is  well  worth  one's  while  to  throw  off; 
or,  on  the  other  hand,  highly  desirable  promptly 
to  accept.  But  there  are  other  beliefs  and  faiths 
which  the  strongest  and  best  disciplined  wills 
can  scarcely,  by  possible  stress  of  effort,  dis- 
pense with,  or  treat  as  of  no  account;  and  woe 
to  the  man  who  voluntarily  succeeds  in  suppress- 
ing or  obscuring  them.  There  are  still  others, 
hitherto  deep-seated  in  the  minds  of  the  race, 
that  seem  destined  to  profound  modification, 
if  not  to  final  dissolution. 

In  order  to  bring  our  beliefs  into  the  realm 
of  morality,  and  so  to  give  chance  for  a  satis- 
factory answer  to  the  practical  question,  What 
should  I,  in  fact,  believe?  two  things  are  indis- 
pensable. The  attempt  must  be  made  to  esti- 
mate these  beliefs  in  the  light  of  their  claim  to 
be  reasonable;  and  the  influence  of  the  active 
and  self-controlling  Self  must  be  thrown  into 
the  scale  on  the  side  of  their  reasonableness. 
What  constitutes  the  "reasonableness"  of  any 

[501 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

particular  belief  or  faith  is  a  problem  which 
deserves  the  most  careful  consideration.  It  is 
enough  at  present  to  say,  that  the  satisfaction 
which  belief  affords  to  certain  affections  and 
emotions,  and  the  usefulness  which  certain 
beliefs  have  in  prompting  the  worthier  interests 
of  a  practical  sort,  while  not  the  only  marks  of 
rational  significance,  are  by  no  means  the  least 
worthy  of  recognition  and  of  influence  in  de- 
termining the  wisdom  of  the  choice. 

It  is  the  province  of  intellect  to  work  at  the 
task  of  exploring  and  estimating  the  reasonable- 
ness of  our  beliefs  scientific  and  social,  and  of 
our  ethical  and  religious  faiths.  In  this  task 
it  —  to  speak  figuratively  —  employs  will;  more 
properly  expressed,  it  is  itself  active  intellect, 
willing  and  self -directing  mind.  The  results  of 
its  work  impose  upon  the  person  a  more  distinctly 
moral  kind  of  activity;  this  consists  in  the 
choice  of  the  worthier,  because  more  reasonable, 
among  our  beliefs,  and  in  the  cultivation  of  the 
habits  of  thought  and  conduct  which  place  these 
beliefs  in  the  control  of  the  practical  life.  Thus 
in  every  form  of  science,  all  the  powers  of 
accurate  observation,  keen  analysis,  experi- 
mental testing,  and  logical  inference,  are  em- 
ployed to  discover,  so  far  as  is  possible,  what 

[51] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

one  of  two  contrasted  or  conflicting  beliefs  is 
most  reasonable.  The  decision  is  apt  to  be 
governed  by  only  varying  degrees  of  proba- 
bility; but  it  binds  the  mind  to  a  choice  which 
has  a  certain  measure  of  moral  significance. 
So,  also,  among  the  obscure  and  seemingly 
confused  and  conflicting  instincts,  blindly  mo- 
tived tendencies,  and  beliefs  or  personal  faiths, 
which  so  largely  regulate  human  social  inter- 
course, and  which  make  it  to  be  the  complicated 
and  largely  inexplicable  thing  that  it  really  is, 
the  intelligence  of  the  students  of  human  nature 
(and  to  this  class  of  students  every  human  being 
is  in  some  sort  forced  to  belong)  is  from  time  to 
time  making  distinctions  as  to  their  correspond- 
ence with  the  realities  of  the  physical  World 
and  with  the  interests  of  the  developing  race. 
Thus  these  beliefs  and  faiths  are  made  more 
obviously  reasonable,  or  else,  being  convicted 
of  too  large  a  measure  of  unreason  are  rendered 
fit  to  be  cast  out  and  be  burned,  like  the  chaff 
which  has  been  separated  out  of  the  wheat. 

It  is,  however,  in  respect  of  its  moral  and 
religious  beliefs  and  faiths,  that  the  race  has 
always  enlisted  the  most  highly  imaginative, 
conscientiously  logical,  and  strenuously  devoted 
work  of  the  inquiring  and  critical  mind.  Out 

[52] 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

of  the  effort  to  render  these  beliefs  and  faiths 
more  reasonable,  all  the  ethics,  the  theology, 
the  philosophy,  and  much  of  the  literature  and 
art  of  humanity,  has  derived  its  motives  and 
directed  its  course.  That  the  intellect  of  the 
race  has  not  as  yet  reduced  them  to  the  terms 
of  exact  knowledge  is  neither  to  the  discredit  of 
the  intellect  nor  of  the  beliefs  and  faiths  them- 
selves. If  the  failure  illustrates  the  limitations 
—  but  by  no  means,  the  "petty  role" —  of 
the  one,  it  does  not  demonstrate,  or  even  credi- 
bly suggest,  the  unreasonableness  of  the  other. 
For  while  morality  and  religion  cannot  afford 
to  flout  at  the  demands  of  intellect  to  make 
themselves  more  clear  and  apprehensible,  if  not 
more  certainly  matters  of  demonstration,  their 
very  nature  renders  them  essentially  unassail- 
able by  the  destructive  work  of  all  rationalistic 
methods.  These  spheres  of  human  experience 
are  obligated  to  offer  to  the  mind  who  has  the 
righteous  "will  to  believe"  an  ever  brightening 
aspect  of  "sweet  reasonableness."  In  morals 
and  religion,  Faith  and  Reason  must  be  united 
by  an  act  of  Will. 

But  just  as  the  will  to  believe  must,  on  the  one 
hand,  be  deferential  to  the  reasonableness  of 
its  object,  so  on  the  other  hand,  must  it  purify 

[53] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

itself  from  all  admixture  of  base  motives,  if  it 
aims  at  the  approval  of  moral  consciousness. 
Not  to  regard  the  reasonableness  of  the  belief 
to  which  the  will  is  asked  to  attach  itself,  is  to 
run  the  peril  of  an  immoral  choice.  But  he 
who  wills  to  believe  this  rather  than  that, 
simply  because  this  rather  than  that  would 
more  effectively  serve  his  selfish  ends,  has 
already  succumbed  to  the  temptation  which  is 
the  chief  peril  of  all  immorality.  Disregard  of 
sound  reasons,  issuing  in  the  irrational  or 
unreflective  will  to  believe,  is  morally  illegiti- 
mate will.  It  is  will  contributing  to  erroneous 
and  practically  misleading  belief.  But  the 
will  to  believe,  which  is  determined  by  greed, 
lust,  partisanship,  or  other  selfish  considera- 
tions, is  the  very  opposite  of  that  good  will  in 
which  the  essence  of  goodness  has  so  often  been 
made  to  consist. 

That  what  men  wish  to  be  true,  they  are,  other 
things  being  equal,  inclined  to  believe  is  true, 
is  a  practical  conclusion  which  has  been  conse- 
crated and  enforced  by  much  experience.  To 
be  sure,  there  are  temperaments  which,  espe- 
cially when  they  have  been  chastened  by  much 
disappointing  experience,  have  come  to  believe 
that  what  they  wish  to  believe  is,  for  that  very 

[54] 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

absurd  reason,  all  the  less  entitled  to  be  believed 
as  true.  But  setting  aside  these  melancholy 
cases,  it  is  notable,  especially  among  the  youth- 
ful and  among  all  conspicuously  hopeful  souls, 
that  their  beliefs  are  very  much  influenced  to 
turn  in  the  direction  of  their  wishes.  The 
wish  influences  the  belief,  however,  through 
the  will,  if  indeed  it  influences  it  at  all.  There 
are  several  ways  in  which  this  influence  may  be 
exerted.  In  one  or  more  of  these  ways  this 
influence  is  actually  exerted.  For  example: 
What  one  wishes  to  believe,  to  the  arguments 
for  that  one  wills  to  give  attention.  On  the 
contrary,  one  wills  to  give  less  attention  to  the 
Opposite  belief,  or  to  withdraw  the  attention 
altogether  from  it.  Especially  in  matters  of 
morals  and  religion,  a  vast  multitude  of  men 
will  not  take  their  reasonableness  into  serious 
consideration;  either  because  they  do  not  wish 
certain  beliefs  to  be  true,  or  because  they  have 
already  established  their  beliefs  according  to 
opposing  tendencies.  For  not  to  wish  at  all, 
may  lead  to  as  unsatisfactory  choices  of  one's 
faiths  as  to  wish  too  violently,  or  to  be  guided 
by  wishes  that  are  selfish  and  prejudiced. 

The  influences  of  current  opinion  are  also 
most  powerful  over  the  will  to  believe.    To 

[55] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

believe  differently  from  the  great  majority,  — 
and  this  especially  in  important  matters  having 
moral  or  religious  import,  —  puts  a  more  or 
less  definite  strain  from  the  feeling  of  responsi- 
bility upon  the  will  to  believe.  This  is  pre- 
cisely as  it  should  be.  For  it  is  common  opinion 
about  matters,  which  have  not  as  yet  become, 
and  perhaps  never  can  become,  matters  of 
knowledge,  that  constitutes  the  chiefest  and 
most  valuable  bond  uniting  any  community  in 
a  social  way,  and  binding  the  entire  race  into  a 
spiritual  unity.  But  the  demands  of  reason- 
ableness, although  the  wide-spread  and  per- 
sistence of  beliefs  is  not  the  least  important 
proof  of  reasonableness,  are  for  the  freedom  of 
the  will  to  believe,  more  commanding  and  more 
righteous,  than  the  mere  opinions  of  the  most 
overwhelming  majority.  And  history  is  full  of 
instances  where  the  faiths  of  a  few,  who  appealed 
to  the  reasonableness  of  these  faiths,  came  at 
the  last  to  triumph  over  the  beliefs  unreason- 
ingly  prevalent  among  the  majority. 

Some  fruitful  thoughts  concerning  the  nature 
and  province  of  the  will  in  believing,  flow  from 
the  fact  that  certain  human  beliefs  arrange 
themselves  in  pairs,  both  of  which  cannot  be 
true,  but  one  of  which  must  be  true.  This 

[56] 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

fact  seems  to  force  upon  every  thoughtful  mind 
the  necessity  of  a  choice.  And  it  must  be  a 
choice  of  beliefs  rather  than  of  knowledges; 
because  the  evidence  is  by  no  means  conclusive 
—  and  in  some  instances,  it  is  not  even  get-at- 
able  —  in  either  direction.  In  the  region  of 
abstract  thought,  this  fact  was  much  exploited 
by  Sir  William  Hamilton  in  his  "Law  of  the 
Conditioned";  by  Dean  Mansel  in  his  "Limits 
of  Religious  Thought";  and  by  Mr.  Spencer  in 
his  attempt  to  reconcile  science  and  religion  on 
the  basis  that  the  Power  believed  in  as  mani- 
festing itself  in  all  the  phenomena  is  essentially 
the  "Unknowable."  Something  of  the  same 
sort  has  been  more  recently  done  by  Mr. 
Bradley  in  his  brilliant  exposition  and  criticism 
of  human  beliefs  as  appertaining  to  "Appear- 
ance and  Reality."  For  instance  —  to  take 
our  illustration  from  the  first  mentioned  of 
these  authors:  Space  must  be  conceived  of, 
if  conceived  of  at  all,  as  either  in  reality  infinite 
or  in  reality  conditioned  or  limited.  But  we 
cannot  imagine,  much  less  know  it  in  either 
way.  Our  knowledge,  therefore,  moves  along 
a  sort  of  middle  line,  in  neither  one  of  the  two 
extremes  of  which  can  we  believe,  for  impossi- 
bility of  imagination  limits  such  belief;  but  one 

[571 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

of  which  we  must  consider  to  be  really  true. 
In  religion,  according  to  Dean  Mansel's  now 
almost  forgotten  book,  our  principal  faiths 
with  regard  to  the  being  of  God  are  of  essen- 
tially the  same  sort,  so  far  as  the  grounds  on 
which  they  repose  are  concerned.  For  ends  of 
practical  good,  we  choose  between  contradic- 
tories, neither  of  which  is  capable  of  being 
reasonable  according  to  the  demands  for  satis- 
faction of  either  intellect  or  imagination. 

With  regard  to  all  such  beliefs  as  the  fore- 
going, when  considered  as  a  basis  for  practical 
morality  or  religion,  not  to  say  as  affording  any 
clue  to  a  reasonable  ground  for  either  science 
or  philosophy,  or  even  for  successful  guessing 
or  "trowing,"  one  thing  is  enough  to  say. 
The  substance  of  them  resolves  itself  at  once 
into  nothing  better  than  vaporous  abstractions, 
to  which  no  thing  in  reality  corresponds.  Or, 
even  if  this  be  not  so,  they  do  not  afford  grounds 
or  guardians  of  belief  or  faith  of  any  sort. 
They  end  in  an  agnosticism  so  profound  that 
it  cannot  even  state  itself  in  terms  intelligible 
to  human  minds  without  involving  itself  in 
hopeless  absurdity.  If  the  contradictory  con- 
clusions derived  from  these  abstractions  were 
applicable  to  real  things  and  actual  transactions 

[58] 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

and  relations,  there  could  be  neither  knowledge 
nor  belief,  statable  or  defensible.  We  may 
prove  that  the  space  and  time  between  the 
swiftly  running  Achilles  and  the  slowly  moving 
tortoise,  or  between  the  bow-string  and  the 
target  when  the  flying  arrow  sets  out  for  its 
mark,  are  capable  of  division  and  subdivision 
ad  indefinitum,  in  a  never-ending  series  of 
"little  zeros"  of  diminishing  numerical  value. 
But  we  cannot  be  asked  to  believe  that  Achilles 
cannot  actually  overtake  the  tortoise,  or  the  arrow 
reach  its  mark;  for  we  know  that  both  events 
are  not  only  possible  but  sure  to  take  place; 
and  we  can  tell  to  within  the  fraction  of  a  second 
how  much  time  they  will  require  for  their  act- 
ualizing. Neither  can  we  be  asked  to  choose 
between  a  God  who  is  "The  Infinite,"  or  "The 
Absolute,"  and  a  man-like  deity  who  lacks 
even  as  much  of  freedom,  and  dignity  of  power, 
and  excellence  of  wisdom,  as  we  know  ourselves 
capable  of  attaining.  In  general,  we  cannot  be 
asked  to  will  to  believe  in  the  applicability  to 
reality  of  either  one  of  two  incompatible  and 
equally  inconceivable  abstractions.  Incom- 
patible abstractions  have  no  right  to  determine 
or  to  limit  either  our  knowledge  or  our  faith 
with  regard  to  experienced  realities. 

[59] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Besides  these  contrasted  or  contradictory 
abstractions,  with  regard  to  which  the  attitude 
of  indifference  or  of  complete  agnosticism  is 
the  only  rational  one,  there  are  other  "pairs  of 
beliefs,"  where  it  is  desirable  or  imperative 
that  the  will  to  believe  should  grasp  firmly  one 
of  the  two.  For  such  beliefs,  there  are  reasons 
on  one  side,  and  reasons  on  the  other  and 
opposite  side.  Yet,  only  one  of  the  two  must 
represent  the  truth  of  reality.  Perhaps  we 
despair  of  sure  knowledge  as  to  which  of  the 
two  beliefs  is  really  true.  But  for  purposes  of 
understanding  the  world,  or  safe-conducting  of 
the  practical  life,  we  feel  bound  to  make  a  sort 
of  choice  between  the  two.  Of  such  beliefs, 
many  are  comparatively  trivial,  while  others 
belong  to  the  most  profound  and  influential  of 
all  similar  attitudes  of  mind. 

As  lying  at  the  foundations  and  defining  the 
goal  of  all  science,  there  are  two  contrasted  if 
not  opposite  views  of  the  cognizable  complex 
of  things  and  souls,  of  what  science  calls  "Na- 
ture," philosophy  sometimes  calls  "The  Being 
of  the  World,"  and  poetry  "The  Cosmos,"  or 
some  other  imaginative  term.  On  the  one 
hand,  this  complex  may  be  believed  in  as  in 
reality  nothing  more  than  what  the  positive 

[60] 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

sciences  know  it  to  be,  —  namely,  a  mechanism 
of  motions  of  visible  and  tangible  masses  and 
molecules,  related  in  an  imaginary  time  and 
space,  in  ways  approximately  corresponding  to 
mathematical  formulas.  And  to  some  minds 
this  belief  presents  many  evidences  in  favor  of 
its  rationality.  Indeed,  if  we  check  our  inquiry 
at  certain  fixed  limits,  deny  our  imagination  its 
higher  flights,  repress  some  of  our  intellectual 
aspirations  and  other  emotions,  this  belief 
would  seem  to  have  the  greater  weight  of 
evidence  in  its  favor.  On  the  other  hand,  there 
is  the  opposed  belief,  which  sees  Mind  and  Will 
and  other  spiritual  characteristics,  even  of  the 
ethical  order,  underlying,  interpenetrating,  and 
controlling  all  the  mechanism.  This  is  the 
faith  in  a  world  of  reason  as  the  only  real  and 
satisfactory  explanation  of  the  world  of  sense. 
Those  who  hold  this  faith  claim  —  and  with 
good  show  of  practical  fruits  —  that  it  is  really 
much  the  more  satisfactory  to  the  rational 
sentiments  and  ethical  needs  of  humanity. 
We  do  not  say  that  every  student  of  the  world 
from  the  scientific  point  of  view  must  choose 
between  these  two  conflicting  beliefs;  for  by 
no  means  every  so-called  "scientist"  feels  the 
compulsion  to  use  his  powers  of  reflective 

[61] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

thinking,  and  attain  the  faiths  that  follow,  to 
any  high  degree.  But  we  do  think  that  any 
one  who  reflects  upon  the  knowledge  of  things 
visible  as  urging  the  mind  to  the  belief  in  the 
invisible,  will  finally  see  the  propriety  and  the 
utility  of  making  this  choice. 

So,  too,  in  the  realms  of  the  social,  the  moral, 
and  the  religious  concerns  of  humanity,  there 
are  pairs  of  important  and  comprehensive  but 
rival  beliefs,  between  which  it  is  highly  desir- 
able, if  not  quite  imperative,  that  every  thought- 
ful man  should  make  a  choice.  Such  are  the 
beliefs  of  Pessimism  and  Optimism  in  the 
interpretation  of  history,  of  Idealism  and 
Utilitarianism  in  ethics,  of  Theism  and  Atheism 
or  Agnosticism  in  religion. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  illustrate  the  im- 
portant part  which  the  choice  of  beliefs  plays 
in  the  daily  conduct  of  every  human  life,  — 
especially  so  far  as  every  life  is  conducted  with 
some  regard  for  the  consequences  of  conduct  in 
more  or  less  full  view.  In  business,  men  face 
such  calls  upon  the  will  to  believe  every  day  of 
their  lives.  Shall  this  customer  be  trusted,  or 
not?  Shall  this  opportunity  for  investment  be 
accepted  or  rejected?  Shall  this  signature  be 
believed  to  be  genuine,  or  a  forgery?  Which 

[62] 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

of  two  diseases  shall  the  physician  believe  to  be 
indicated  by  the  symptoms  of  the  patient? 
And  which  of  the  two  physicians,  who  diagnose 
the  disease  differently,  shall  the  patient  believe? 
A  choice  must  be  made  between  two  beliefs, 
and  the  evidence  for  either  is  far  from  being 
clear.  In  some  cases,  indeed,  it  seems  a  sort 
of  "toss-up"  which  way  the  will  to  believe 
should  turn.  In  other  cases  we  try,  with  more 
or  less  success,  to  convince  ourselves  that  the 
evidence  inclines,  at  least  slightly,  in  favor  of 
one  or  the  other  of  the  two  beliefs.  We  de- 
sire to  avoid  the  appearance  of  having  chosen 
unreasonably  or  on  grounds  of  mere  caprice. 

It  seems,  then,  that  the  very  nature  of  human 
beliefs,  both  as  attitudes  of  mind  and  as  related 
in  reality  to  the  objects  of  these  beliefs,  makes 
them  dependent  in  a  measure  on  human  wills. 
They  are  attitudes  of  the  Self,  involving  emo- 
tional stirrings,  sentimental  satisfactions,  im- 
portant practical  needs;  but  they  also  make 
demands  upon  the  activities  of  imagination, 
intellect,  intuitive  insight  and  calculated  pre- 
science as  to  probable  results.  They  thus  urge 
and  stimulate  that  self-control  which  is  the  most 
precious  divine  gift  to  the  spirit  of  man.  And 
being  measurably  subject  to  self-control  in  the 

[631 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

interests  of  their  own  reasonableness  and  use- 
fulness, they  are  moral  as  well  as  mental  affairs. 
We  may  not,  therefore,  raise  the  question, 
"What  should  I  believe?"  —  without  the  plain 
implication  that  our  beliefs  are  no  unimportant 
part  of  our  equipment  for  the  upright  life. 
Not  only  does  action  depend  on  wish  and 
desire  in  a  sort  of  mechanical  and  half -physical 
way;  but  belief  depends  on  choice  in  a  manner 
corresponding  to  the  rights  and  interests  of  the, 
free  spirit  in  man.  The  morality  of  the  exercise 
of  our  will  to  believe,  upon  our  accepted  or 
rejected  beliefs  and  faiths,  is  a  sort  of  variable 
coefficient  of  our  power  to  render  them  in 
harmony  with  the  conclusions  of  the  intellect 
and  the  higher  interests  of  life.  In  the  attempt 
to  do  this,  however,  we  must  never  fail  to 
remember  certain  essential  differences  between 
knowledge  and  even  the  most  reasonable  and 
well-founded  beliefs.  We  must  never  forget 
that  the  good  and  wise  man  lives  by  his  faiths 
even  more  than  by  the  things  which  he  surely 
knows  and  can  state  in  acceptable  scientific 
terms, — thus  impressing  them  irresistibly  upon 
his  fellow  men. 

The  practical  import  of  the  true  doctrine  of 
the  will  to  believe  is  to  put  every  man  on  his 

[64] 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

guard  toward  the  subject  of  his  beliefs.  The 
attitude  of  mind,  to  which  we  give  this  somewhat 
obscure  and  mystical  title,  should  not  be  left 
to  caprice  or  to  hap-hazard,  so  to  say.  It  is  an 
enormously  important  thing  for  any  individual, 
what  his  beliefs  and  non-beliefs  really  are. 
We  are  obligated  to  a  careful  selection  among 
our  beliefs.  As  capable  of  developing  a  modi- 
cum, if  not  a  high  grade  of  moral  freedom,  we 
have  the  permission  of  nature  and  of  society 
to  make  this  selection.  We  have  the  permis- 
sion of  nature;  this  permission  is  embodied  in 
the  very  gift  of  moral  freedom.  We  can,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  have  something  to  say  as  to 
what  we  shall  believe;  and  as  to  what  degree 
of  the  confidence  of  belief  we  shall  put  into  this 
or  that  matter  soliciting  belief.  In  no  other 
sphere  of  our  activity  is  society  so  much  obliged 
to  let  us  alone,  whether  it  wishes  to  or  not,  as 
in  the  matter  of  our  beliefs.  Society  is,  indeed, 
like  many  of  our  individual  acquaintances, 
often  troublesomely  curious,  either  in  a  friendly 
or  a  hostile  way,  to  control  our  beliefs.  But 
try  as  hard  as  it  may,  unless  we  will,  it  cannot 
compel  them.  More  than  any  other  part  of 
our  experience  and  our  development,  our 
beliefs  and  our  faiths  remain  as  we  will  to  have 

[65] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

them.  This  incomparable  freedom  of  belief  is, 
however,  no  safeguard  against  an  intolerable 
and  degrading  bondage  to  belief.  It  is,  on  the 
other  hand,  an  exhortation  to  choose  the  best 
—  the  most  reasonable  and  worthy  and  practi- 
cally serviceable  of  beliefs. 

Without  this  will  to  believe,  in  matters  in- 
volving moral  and  religious  truths,  no  man's 
path  could  be  made  tolerably  clear,  either  for 
this  life,  or  as  to  the  life  beyond  this,  —  whether 
there  be  any  such  life,  its  nature,  its  issues,  its 
awards.  For  as  to  these  things,  the  intuitive 
vision  of  faith  must  take  the  place  of  the  vision 
of  the  senses  and  of  the  unbiased  calculations 
of  science.  "To  see!  to  see!"  says  Conrad, 
"this  is  the  craving  of  the  sailor,  as  of  the  rest 
of  blind  humanity.  To  have  his  path  made 
clear  for  him  is  the  aspiration  of  every  human 
being  in  our  beclouded  and  tempestuous  exist- 
ence." The  path  along  which  our  ideals  are 
made  clear  is  the  path  of  faith.  Will  is  the 
helmsman,  and  reason  the  compass,  which  must 
lay  the  course  when  no  harbor  is  in  view  to 
sense. 

To  gain  this  vision  of  the  "path  made  clear," 
however,  one  must  never  throw  the  weight  of 
the  will  on  the  side  of  the  wish,  if  the  wish  is 

[66] 


THE  SO-CALLED  "WILL  TO  BELIEVE" 

selfish,  partisan,  or  inconsiderate.  The  will- 
to-believe  what  is  true  is  the  only  rational  and 
safe  kind  of  the  will-to-believe.  The  moral 
principle  regulating  the  maxim  is  —  not,  that 
is  true  which  we  will  to  believe  true;  but  our 
steadfast  will  must  be  to  believe  what  has  most 
seeming  really  to  be  true. 


[67] 


CHAPTER  III 
LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

7  HAT  the  various  beliefs  and  faiths  of 
men  differ  greatly  in  their  weight  and 
value  is  amply  proved  by  our  experi- 
ence with  them  and  by  the  language  employed 
in  describing  them.  This  is  true  whether  we 
take  the  individual  or  the  racial  and  social 
point  of  view.  In  every  person's  estimate, 
grave  distinctions  are  habitually  made  in  the 
shadings  of  sunny  confidence  and  the  shadows 
of  doubt  which  constantly  pass  over  the  fields 
of  his  mental  life.  On  some  of  his  own  beliefs 
he  himself  looks  with  an  amused  curiosity,  or 
with  indifference  and  even,  at  times,  with  a  sort 
of  disgust.  But  others  of  them  have  so  laid 
hold  on  the  passive  mind,  or  have  been  gripped 
with  such  a  tenacious  and  fateful  act  of  will, 
that  to  have  them  depart  or  be  cast  away  would 
seem  little  less  terrible  than  to  have  the  soul 
itself  torn  asunder  or  cast  out.  Some  of  them, 
even  when  they  are  kept  uninjured  or  apart 
[68] 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

from  the  scepticism  or  agnosticism,  if  not 
renunciation,  which  a  search  into  their  meaning 
and  their  causes  would  surely  bring  about,  are 
allowed  scanty  practical  influence  on  the  con- 
duct of  life.  This  is,  indeed,  the  scandal  of 
the  moral  and  religious  faiths  of  multitudes  of 
men.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  certain  beliefs, 
especially  of  the  moral  and  religious  order, 
which  a  more  enlightened  understanding  or  an 
increase  of  real  knowledge  has  led  the  individual 
to  desire  to  banish  from  his  intellectual  horizon, 
or  to  regard,  perhaps,  as  a  species  of  deceptive 
mirage,  still  loom  great  and  strong  in  the 
clouds  of  sentiment,  or  threaten  with  mutter- 
ings  of  distant  thunder  to  decide,  in  spite  of 
the  soul's  efforts  to  dispel  them,  the  very  issues 
of  life  and  death. 

What  is  true  of  the  individual  person  is  true 
in  a  much  more  impressive  and  compelling 
way  of  society  at  large.  It  is  even  true  of  the 
historic  development  of  the  race.  Mankind  in 
general  has  always  taken  its  different  beliefs 
and  faiths  as  differing  in  practical  importance 
and  ideal  value.  Some  of  the  most  persist- 
ent and  ubiquitous  of  them  have  always  seemed 
to  lend  themselves  most  readily  to  the  merri- 
ment of  the  thoughtless,  or  to  the  despite  and 

[69] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

scorn  of  the  caste  of  the  "intelligents."  Girls 
giggle  and  tremble  at  the  same  time,  as  they 
listen  to  tales  of  haunted  houses  and  sheeted 
ghosts.  The  superstitious  savage  does  the  one 
thing  before,  and  the  other  thing  after,  the 
actual  appearance  of  the  ghost.  Learned  pro- 
fessors investigate,  to  the  end  of  putting  no 
little  "faith"  in  even  the  most  vulgar  of  spirit- 
ualistic phenomena;  while  other  no  less  learned 
professors  jeer  at  their  credulous  comrades,  and 
in  the  name  of  "Germanic  culture"  avow  that 
they  would  not  believe  in  a  miracle,  if  they  saw 
one  with  their  own  eyes;  or  in  the  resurrection 
of  the  body,  "even  though  one  rose  from  the 
dead,"  as  its  most  visible  and  tangible  demon- 
stration. On  the  contrary,  they  who  all  their 
lives  long  "have  been  in  bondage"  to  such  a 
theory  of  mechanism  as  to  destroy  all  faith  in 
prayer,  are  not  infrequently,  on  the  deck  of 
some  sinking  ship,  discovered  with  blanched 
cheeks,  bended  knees,  and  uplifted  hands. 

But  what  about  all  this,  —  except,  perhaps, 
to  prove  the  inconsistency  of  human  nature, 
the  limitations  of  human  knowledge,  the  uncer- 
tainty and  changeableness,  and  inefficiency  of 
all  human  beliefs?  They  who  claim  to  have 
had  ample  experience  for  a  perfect  induction, 

[70] 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

not  infrequently  profess  to  have  found  all  men, 
and  a  fortiori  all  women,  faithless;  so  that 
their  practical  maxim  is  to  trust  nobody  im- 
plicitly, and  (why  should  we  not  reverse  it?) 
not  to  expect  any  one  to  trust  them.  But 
such  persons  do  not  consider  that  to  carry  out 
in  practice  so  sweeping  a  system  of  unbelief 
would  give  the  lie  to  all  science,  and  would 
bring  all  human  social  and  business  intercourse 
to  an  untimely  end.  Of  course,  there  could  no 
longer  be  any  talk  of  moral  and  religious  ideals, 
or  any  obligation  to  particular  forms  and 
courses  of  conduct  as  based  upon  these  ideals. 

We  cannot,  however,  dismiss  off-hand  our 
question,  "What  should  I  believe?"  in  this 
unsettled  manner.  To  be  sure,  no  promise  has 
been  made  to  inform  any  inquirer,  much  less 
to  dictate  to  any  anxious  soul,  just  precisely 
what  he  must  adopt  as  his  system  of  scientific, 
social,  moral,  and  religious  beliefs.  But  we 
did  hold  out  the  hope  that  some  guide-posts 
might  be  set  up  along  the  way  of  reasonable 
and  practically  useful  beliefs.  More  especially, 
we  discerned  in  the  very  manner  of  asking  the 
question  a  hint  that  the  mind  which  wills  to 
believe,  in  a  persistently  honest  and  devoted 
way,  may  obtain  some  light  on  that  path  of 

[71] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

faith  which,  if  followed,  leads  more  and  more 
out  into  the  "light  of  the  perfect  day."  Thus 
one  might  reasonably  hope  to  escape  that 
"paralysis  of  the  soul"  through  unbelief  which 
Epictetus  so  long  ago  justly  described  as  much 
more  terrible  than  paralysis  of  the  body. 

The  desirable  end  after  which  we  are  just 
now  groping,  can  be  attained  only  by  making 
distinctions  in  human  beliefs  and  faiths.  They 
must  be  somehow  measured  as  to  their  weight 
and  their  value.  In  this  way  only  can  we  judge 
of  the  obligations  under  which  they  place  us, 
and  of  the  advantages  which  they  offer  to  us. 
Especially  does  this  making  of  distinctions 
seem  necessary  in  the  domain  of  human  moral 
and  religious  ideals,  and  in  the  faiths  or  doubts 
with  which  men  face  these  ideals. 

All  measurements  of  weight  and  value,  how- 
ever, whether  of  things  material  or  of  things 
spiritual,  require  the  application  of  some 
standard  of  measurement.  How  then  shall 
we  determine  the  weight  and  value  of  human 
beliefs  and  faiths?  There  are  some  standards 
which  are  obvious  and  convenient.  They  may 
have  a  certain  degree  of  usefulness;  but  they 
are  not  absolute.  They  are  subject  to  changes 
in  circumstance,  or  to  the  growth  of  positive 

[72] 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

knowledge,  or  to  the  infinite  individuality  which 
is  so  valuable  a  characteristic  of  all  the  higher 
developments  of  personal  life.  Can  we  not, 
however,  find  some  standard  of  measurement 
which  inheres  in  the  very  substance  of  per- 
sonal life;  or,  perhaps,  in  the  very  bones  of  the 
universe,  so  to  say? 

In  practice,  men  are  apt  to  estimate  the 
weight  and  value  of  their  beliefs  and  faiths  by 
the  degree  of  confidence  which,  at  the  moment, 
they  repose  in  them.  This  kind  of  estimate  is 
by  no  means  wholly  unreasonable.  For  just 
as  "being  sure"  is  a  somewhat  essential  factor 
in  all  knowledge,  so  a  certain  amount  of  confi- 
dence is  an  indispensable  factor  in  all  kinds 
and  degrees  of  belief.  And  further,  just  as 
there  are  degrees  of  knowledge,  so  are  there 
degrees  of  belief.  In  no  small  degree,  the 
quality  and  amount  of  our  confidence  measure 
the  weight  and  the  value  of  our  beliefs.  Even 
Kant  proposed  to  decide  debates  of  this  char- 
acter by  the  amount  which  he  who  held  the 
confidence  was  willing  to  bet  on  the  future  issue 
which  should  test  the  "objective  certainty" 
of  the  subjective  state.  This  way  of  measuring 
such  certainty,  and  as  well  the  practical  useful- 
ness of  the  states  of  mind  we  call  believing 

[731 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

rather  than  knowing,  has  not  yet  gone  out  of 
date.  Perhaps  it  never  will;  for,  although  to 
make  the  stake  one  of  the  laying  down  of  money 
on  the  card-table  or  the  table  of  roulette  may 
be  considered  immoral,  the  very  essence  of 
morality  compels  us  to  stake  interests  more 
important  than  any  amount  of  money,  on  the 
degree  of  confidence  which  distinguishes,  for 
us,  our  momentary  but  practically  indispensa- 
ble belief. 

The  degrees  of  belief,  as  characterized  by 
the  subjective  confidence  which  enters  into 
them,  vary  all  the  way  from  that  passionate 
conviction  of  the  truth  of  certain  judgments 
which  we  hold  on  account  of  the  value  they 
have  for  other  interests  than  merely  our  in- 
tellectual satisfaction,  to  that  kind  of  weakly 
but  obstinate  attachment  which  we  yield  toward 
certain  conventions  and  dogmas  that  have 
conspicuously  failed  to  satisfy  the  demand  for 
reasons  in  their  behalf.  These  degrees  are  not 
only  in  fact  effective,  but  are  also  reasonably 
influential  in  the  determination  of  the  will  to 
believe.  But  the  degree  of  confidence  in  one's 
believing,  even  less  than  the  being  sure  of  what 
one  assumes  to  know,  affords  no  absolute,  and 
not  even  any  steady  and  relatively  depend- 

[74] 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

able,  guaranty  for  the  reasonableness  of  one's 
beliefs  and  faiths. 

Neither  can  we  fall  back  on  demonstration, 
after  the  method  of  either  so-called  pure 
mathematics,  or  the  empirical  formulas  of  the 
positive  sciences,  to  afford  us  a  perfect  measure 
of  the  weight  and  value  of  human  beliefs  and 
faiths.  The  embodiment  of  our  ideals,  the 
satisfaction  of  our  sentiments,  the  securing  of 
the  impressions  and  habits  for  the  life  of 
conduct,  enter  too  essentially  into  all  the 
believing  and  trusting  attitudes  of  the  human 
soul.  And  these  are  values  which  cannot  be 
calculated  by  algebra,  or  plotted  in  curves,  or 
sufficiently  weighed  by  laboratory  methods. 
The  only  path  —  if  any  there  be  —  to  the 
discovery  of  these  values  is  that  of  psychological 
analysis  based  on  an  ever  broadening  experience 
as  to  what  is  in  the  spirit  of  man,  and  helped 
out  by  constant  appeal  to  history.  Without 
this  analytic  and  historical  study  of  the  human 
spirit,  of  the  personality  that  every  human 
being  is  "potentially,"  as  the  phrase  is,  or  in 
embryo,  we  shall  seek  in  vain  for  any  even 
approximately  correct  standard  by  which  to 
estimate  the  weight  and  the  value  of  human 
beliefs  and  faiths.  In  a  word,  those  beliefs 

[751 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

and  faiths  are  to  be  deemed  the  greater,  in 
any  comparison  of  fair  values,  which  belong 
most  essentially  to  the  Substance  of  the  Self; 
which  have  actually  most  weight  and  most 
value  for  promoting  the  permanent  interests 
and  contributing  to  the  choicest  developments 
of  the  personal  life.  In  the  market  of  faith, 
as  in  the  market  of  pelf,  it  is  "skin  for  skin"; 
but  "all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his 
life." 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  illustrate  the 
numerous  lesser  beliefs  which  operate  with  no 
little  effectiveness  to  control  the  conduct  of  the 
daily  life  of  every  individual.  One  believes 
that  it  will  rain  or  snow  tomorrow;  and  on 
being  asked  to  tell  the  reason  why,  one  appeals 
to  the  look  of  the  sky,  the  feel  of  the  air  or  the 
feeling  in  one's  bones,  if  not  to  the  report  of 
the  weather-bureau;  or  else  one  confesses  to 
an  inability  to  assign  any  reason  for  such  a 
distrustful  attitude  of  mind.  The  state  of 
tomorrow's  weather,  like  the  state  tomorrow 
of  a  fluctuating  market,  affords  unlimited 
opportunities  for  the  opinions  and  guesses  which 
are  devoutly  christened  as  articles  in  our  lesser 
beliefs.  But  the  importance  to  us  as  individuals 
merely,  of  any  particular  belief  or  form  of 

[76] 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

trust,  does  not  avail  to  raise  it  from  the  class  of 
the  trivial  to  the  rank  of  beliefs  that  are  great 
because  of  their  supreme  importance  and 
value.  The  man  who  is  ill,  or  even  the  man 
who  is  well,  may  say  with  sincerity:  "I  believe 
that  I  am  going  to  die  on  such  a  date,"  or,  "I 
do  not  believe  that  my  friend  will  ever  be  well 
again."  There  are  few  whose  hearts  are  not 
rent  and  their  judgments  confounded  by  finding 
that  the  men  and  women  in  whom  they  had 
most  implicitly  believed,  to  whom  they  had 
indeed  most  tightly  "pinned  their  faith,"  have 
proved  unworthy  and  deceitful.  But  impor- 
tant as  such  beliefs  and  faiths  are  for  the 
individual,  and  valuable  as  they  may  be  in 
influencing  all  that  the  individual  holds  most 
dear,  they  do  not  belong  to  the  class  which 
we  have  called  "the  greater,"  in  the  sense  in 
which  we  are  now  employing  the  term. 

We  repeat,  then,  that  judged  by  the  truest 
and  most  enduring  standards,  only  those 
beliefs  and  faiths  are  truly  great,  which,  for 
their  intrinsic  importance  and  value,  depend 
upon  a  valid  conception  of  the  constitution, 
course  in  development,  and  final  issues,  of 
personal  life.  They  constitute  the  "substance 
of  the  Self." 

[771 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Doubtless  we  shall  be  for  the  moment  mis- 
understood if  we  re-affirm,  that  only  those 
beliefs  and  faiths  are  really  great  which  belong 
to  the  substance  of  the  Self;  and  especially  if 
we  add,  that  of  all  these  beliefs  the  central 
one,  the  root-belief,  as  it  were,  is  the  belief  of 
the  Self  in  Itself.  We  hasten,  then,  to  do  what 
is  in  the  power  of  words  appropriate  to  the 
present  phase  of  our  general  theme,  to  remove 
this  risk  of  misunderstanding.  For  we  abhor 
the  philosophy  of  Nietzsche;  we  are  no  admirers 
of  the  "Overman." 

It  needs  only  a  modicum  of  reflection,  how- 
ever, to  see  that  the  consciousness  of  being 
real,  of  being  a  self -directing  will,  and  to  some 
good  degree  an  efficient  centre  of  force  produ- 
cing more  or  less  important  effects,  is  the  point 
of  starting  for  all  knowledge  of,  and  all  belief 
in,  what  we  call  real.  The  belief  that  any- 
thing else  is  real  depends  upon  the  belief  that 
I  am  real.  Strictly  speaking,  this  conviction 
of  the  reality  of  the  Self  as  active  will  is  not  a 
matter  of  knowledge,  given  bit  by  bit  in  items 
of  sensuous  perception  or  in  brief  periods  of 
so-called  self -consciousness.  By  use  of  the 
senses  I  have  now  this  and  now  that  presenta- 
tion of  an  object  arising  in  consciousness. 

[781 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

This  instant  I  am  "minding"  a  tree;  the 
next  a  star;  the  next  the  face  or  the  words  of 
some  friend.  But  unless  all  these  different 
"mindings"  evoked  the  fundamental  belief  in 
a  reality  not-myself,  there  would  be  for  me  no 
world  of  things  and  of  men  in  which  I  might 
realize  and  develop  my  own  personal  life. 
And  what  do  I  get  by  way  of  items  of  knowl- 
ledge,  when  I,  as  the  phrase  now  thought  so 
old-fashioned  is,  "turn  my  thoughts  in  upon 
myself"?  No  envisagement  of  a  reality  that 
lasts  beyond  the  phenomenon  of  seeming  to 
catch  for  a  fraction  of  a  second  only,  the 
thought,  the  feeling,  the  sensuous  experience, 
which  immediately  slips  away  from  my  con- 
scious grasp.  To  the  knowledge  that  comes  bit 
by  bit  through  self-consciousness,  we  are 
ourselves,  if  without  faith, 

"no  other  than  a  moving  row 
Of  Magic  Shadow-shapes  that  come  and  go"; 

and  not  less  so  is 

"this  Sun-illumined  Lantern  held 
In  Midnight  by  the  Master  of  the  Show." 

For  it  is  this  invincible  belief  in  the  reality  of 
the  Self,  that  in  all  personal  life  attaches  itself 
to  the  being  of  the  active  will,  in  which  all 
belief  in  the  reality  of  the  world  of  things  and 

[79] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

men  has  its  fertile  root.  This  fact  that  in 
every  thing  which  the  person  does,  or  knows 
other  objects  of  his  knowledge,  things  or 
persons,  to  be  doing,  he  "posits"  his  own 
reality  and  theirs,  after  the  type  of  an  active 
will,  is  the  faith  which  Fichte  wished  to  make 
the  basis  of  his  moral  philosophy,  as  well  as  of 
his  theory  of  the  world,  according  to  the  passage 
quoted  in  the  last  chapter.  It  was  some- 
what the  same  thought  which  Goethe  had  in 
mind  when  he  uttered  the  meaningful  sentence, 
"In  the  beginning  was  the  deed,"  as  the  prin- 
ciple explanatory  of  all  concrete  existences. 
All  existences  depend  for  their  reality,  and  all 
relations  between  them,  for  their  actuality,  on 
metaphysical  beliefs.  But  the  root  of  all  these 
beliefs  is  the  ontological  faith  of  the  Self  in 
itself. 

It  follows  from  this  truth  as  a  hint  toward 
the  answer  to  the  question,  What  should  I 
believe?  that  every  one  who  realizes  the  fullest 
possibilities  of  being  a  personal  life,  must 
believe  in  his  own  soul,  —  its  reality,  its  effi- 
ciency or  power  to  count  in  the  world  of  things, 
but  especially  in  the  conduct  of  its  own  life, 
and  in  its  own  supreme  worth.  Without  this 
belief  one  cannot  answer,  cannot  even  raise  for 

[80] 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

a  rational  answer,  the  question  of  Jesus:  "What 
shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  gain  the  whole  world 
and  lose  his  own  soul?"  Without  this  faith, 
one  may  easily  be  led  to  bargain  away  one's 
soul  for  that  which  has  no  comparable  value. 

But  bare  will  is  not  all  of  personal  life  and 
personal  development  which  has  value;  nor 
is  the  belief  of  the  Self  in  its  own  reality  as  a 
Will  the  only  form  of  belief  which  belongs  to 
its  very  substance  (to  use  again  the  phrase  that 
already  has  been  partially  explained  and  justi- 
fied). The  Self  irresistibly  believes  in  itself  as 
capable  of  knowledge.  It  has  faith  in  itself 
as  a  cognitive  Self.  One  of  the  most  important 
and  fundamental  of  all  human  beliefs,  and 
certainly  the  one  which  has  most  to  do  with 
making  science  possible,  is  the  belief  of  the 
mind  in  its  own  capacity  for  knowledge.  This 
is  the  faith  that  underlies  and  accompanies  all 
that  psychologists  call  "the  cognitive  con- 
sciousness." "Let  us  keep  to  that  grand 
general  conception,"  says  the  Duke  of  Argyll 
("Philosophy  of  Belief,"  p.  25f.)  —  "about 
which  there  can  be  no  doubt  whatever  —  that 
we  are  born  in,  and  out  of,  that  natural  system 
in  which  we  live  —  that  we  are  children,  not 
aliens  in  its  domain  —  partaking,  in  the  highest 

[81] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

degree,  of  all  its  highest  adaptations  to  function, 
to  work,  to  thought."  But  he  at  once  goes  on 
to  add:  "Nothing  can  give  us  so  firm  a  trust 
that  our  faculties,  when  duly  exercised  and 
kept  within  the  area  of  their  adapted  powers, 
do  really  catch  and  reflect  the  rays  of  eternal 
truth.  All  our  knowledge  implies  nothing  less 
than  this."  This  confidence  is,  however,  the 
contribution  of  trust  to  science;  or,  better 
said,  it  is  the  element  of  belief  which  enters  into 
all  human  knowledge.  It  is  the  confidence  of 
reason  in  itself,  —  a  confidence  absolutely  es- 
sential to  the  equipment  and  the  development 
of  all  personal  life.  In  this  confidence,  whether 
it  be  in  matters  of  science  or  of  so-called  ordi- 
nary knowledge,  reason  is  often  for  the  time 
disappointed,  but  it  is  never  utterly  confounded. 

Of  the  underlying  intellectual  beliefs  which 
make  all  human  knowledge  possible,  and  which 
decide  the  forms  and  limitations  of  such  knowl- 
edge in  an  irresistible  and  final  way,  we  shall 
attempt  no  detailed  analysis,  or  even  enumera- 
tion. Only  as  they  operate  to  give  laws  to  the 
intellect,  is  knowledge  of  any  sort  possible; 
only  as  their  valid  application  to  the  realities 
coming  within  the  field  of  human  science  is 
taken  on  faith,  is  any  guaranty  of  scientific 

[821 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

truth  attainable.  As  axioms  and  postulates 
incapable  of  demonstration  by  a  series  of 
logical  steps,  but  irresistibly  believed  in,  they 
underlie  all  mathematics  and  all  the  mathe- 
matical sciences.  In  the  form  of  unquestioned 
assumptions,  as  to  the  truth  of  which  common- 
sense  considers  it  absurd  to  admit  a  doubt, 
they  condition  and  control  all  the  practical 
affairs  of  men,  knowledge  about  which  is  the 
indispensable  safeguard  of  their  successful  con- 
duct. They  reach  out  into  the  domain  of 
abstract  and  speculative  thinking,  and  compel 
the  thinker  to  admit  into  his  final  explana- 
tion something  besides  the  factors  which  derive 
from  the  senses  and  the  inferences  from  their 
experiences.  They  demand  a  kind  of  re- 
flective thinking  which  shall  take  due  account 
of  sentiment,  of  feeling,  of  intuition,  and  of 
faith,  in  philosophy's  speculative  construction 
of  the  World,  and  of  its  "Ground,"  and  of  our 
relations  to  it.  Hence  the  persistent  belief 
that  human  reason  can  grasp  the  supersensible 
in  some  form  of  "inner  experience,  which 
Fichte  called  intellectual,  Schelling  artistic, 
Schleiermacher  religious,"  —  although  the  ad- 
jectives in  this  sentence  quoted  from  Professor 
Thilly  do  not  seem  altogether  well-chosen. 

[831 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

The  man  who  will  have  none  of  faith  mixing 
with  his  knowledge,  and  who,  in  his  effort  to 
get  rid  of  all  forms  of  belief  that  are  contributory 
to  the  conception  of  an  invisible  and  ideal 
Universe,  and  which  thus  explain  the  relations 
and  doings  of  the  visible  complex  of  phenomena, 
thinks  to  accomplish  his  purpose  by  retreat  to 
the  positions  of  an  uncompromising  agnosticism, 
must  virtually  annihilate  himself.  Nothing 
that  must  be  believed  in  shall  be  admitted  —  so 
he  is  resolved  —  into  his  universe.  No  play  of 
sentiment,  no  construct  of  soaring  imagination, 
no  faith  in  mere  ideals,  shall  tarnish  the  purity, 
or  obscure  the  superficial  clearness,  of  his 
theories  of  the  world  of  things  and  of  men. 
But  such  an  attempt  at  suicide  of  the  Self  can 
never  succeed.  For  such  an  agnostic  takes  with 
him  in  his  retreat  just  the  very  same  constitu- 
tion of  the  Self,  with  just  the  same  irresistible 
faiths  and  clinging  beliefs,  as  are  those  which 
restrain  his  fellows,  who  refuse  to  accompany 
him  in  his  sceptical  flight.  The  rankest  agnos- 
ticism is  shot  through  and  through  with  all  the 
same  fundamental  intellectual  beliefs,  all  the 
same  inescapable  rational  faiths,  about  the 
reality  of  the  Self,  and  about  the  validity  of 
its  knowledge.  You  cannot  save  science  and 

[84] 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

destroy  all  faith.     You  cannot  sit  on  the  limb 
of  the  tree  while  you  tear  it  up  by  the  roots. 

But  something  more  than  those  beliefs  which 
attach  themselves  to  activity  of  the  will,  and 
to  the  work  of  the  intellect,  are  necessary  in 
order  to  constitute  and  to  consecrate  a  truly 
personal  life.  The  confident  self-assertion  of 
the  Self,  its  belief  in  its  own  reality  and  power 
to  produce  effects,  may  become  monstrous,  as 
it  actually  has  become  in  the  philosophy  of 
Nietzsche  and  the  doctrine  of  the  Overman; 
and  in  the  political  theory  that  might  dominates 
right, — so  baleful  in  its  influence  upon  a  nation's 
thought  and  conduct.  Add  to  this  belief,  the 
confidences  of  the  most  ambitious  and  towering 
intellects,  and  all  the  achievements  of  knowledge 
with  which  such  intellects  are  crowned,  multi- 
plied many  fold,  and  you  have  not  yet  the 
making  of  a  real  man.  For  a  "real  man"  is  a 
person;  and  a  person  has  moral  and  social 
beliefs.  Indeed,  in  the  strife  over  the  con- 
flicting conclusions  of  the  intellect  with  regard 
to  the  nature  and  laws  of  the  physical  universe, 
the  higher  science  recognizes  its  obligations  to 
these  moral  beliefs.  For  in  its  sight  the  con- 
clusions of  the  intellect  are  not  just  bare  truth, 
but  truth  that  has  value  because  it  is  truth. 

[85] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Otherwise,  we  could  feel  no  glow  of  approbation 
at  the  words  of  the  scientific  and  pious  prelate 
Paul  Gerlach: 

"I  rue  no  path  on  which  my  spirit  entered 
In  science's  service,  solemnly  and  deep." 

There  is  something  more,  then,  than  a  super- 
ficial relation  between  the  soul's  faith  in  itself 
and  faithfulness  in  conduct.  The  relation  is 
constituted  and  enforced  by  a  whole  system  of 
beliefs  that  belong  to  the  most  essential  factors 
of  the  personal  life.  It  is,  moreover,  illustrated 
by  the  experience  of  every  individual  and  by  the 
history  of  the  race.  For  both  the  experience 
of  the  individual  and  the  history  of  mankind 
evince  the  actual  as  well  as  logical  connection 
between  faith  in  the  Self  as  a  cognitive  will,  and 
the  belief  in  the  efficiency  and  value  of  faithful 
work.  The  lesson  for  the  sower,  of  the  "Para- 
ble of  the  Sower,"  is  this;  —  that,  although 
only  a  fraction  of  his  sowing  brings  fruit  visible 
to  the  senses,  he  must  still  sow  generously  in 
faith  and  hope.  Prom  this  point  of  view  we 
cannot  adopt  the  opinion  of  the  "devout 
chemist,"  Michael  Faraday,  who  wished  to 
make  an  absolute  distinction  between  a  moral 
or  religious  belief  and  an  "ordinary  belief." 
"Ordinary  belief!"  what  phrase  can  be  more 

[86] 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

vague  and  indefensible?  On  the  contrary,  the 
very  ordinariness  of  all  fundamental  moral  and 
religious  beliefs  is  prima  facie  evidence  of  the 
"soul  of  truth"  that  is  in  them. 

That  the  very  constitution  and  the  develop- 
ment of  personal  life  require  an  equipment  of 
fundamental  moral  beliefs  is  a  proposition  which 
few  would  be  inclined,  when  once  they  under- 
stand it  correctly,  ever  to  dispute.  Morality  is 
so  obviously  a  matter  of  imagination,  of  senti- 
ment, of  convictions  that  come  we  know  not 
whence  and  offer  to  conduct  us  we  cannot  just 
see  whither,  as  to  make  the  prominence  of  its 
faiths  an  affair  of  universal  experience.  For 
these  are  the  chief  characteristics  which  separate 
off  our  beliefs  and  faiths,  on  the  one  hand  from 
our  guesses  and  our  opinions,  and  on  the  other, 
from  the  domain  of  knowledge  and  the  exact 
sciences.  When  we  say,  "I  am  fully  con- 
vinced," or  "I  am  perfectly  sure,"  that  this  is 
right  (morally)  and  that  is  wrong,  we  do  not 
mean  to  appeal  to  a  mathematical  demonstra- 
tion, or  to  a  string  of  strictly  logical  inferences; 
or  even  to  a  quite  clear  insight  into  a  series  of 
consequences  sure  to  follow  our  action.  We 
appeal,  the  rather,  to  the  spontaneous  announce- 
ment of  our  moral  consciousness.  And  moral 

[871 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

consciousness  is  largely,  is  even  chiefly,  a 
collection  of  faiths  attaching  themselves  to 
ideals  of  the  imagination. 

In  another  volume  of  this  series  of  attempts 
to  throw  light  on  four  questions  of  the  greatest 
practical  importance  to  all  persons  ("What 
Ought  I  to  Do?")  we  have  shown  how  the  senti- 
ments of  moral  obligation,  of  moral  approba- 
tion and  disapprobation,  and  the  judgments 
of  merit  and  demerit,  with  the  beliefs  that 
accompany  and  support  these  sentiments,  have 
developed  from  the  feeling  of  "  the  ought "  (Chap- 
ter II);  how  the  sentiments  of  Moral  Freedom 
and  of  the  imputability  of  conduct,  and  the 
beliefs  which  consecrate  the  administration  of 
every  form  of  justice,  arise  from  the  feeling 
"I  can"  (Chapter  V);  and  how  it  is  only 
"Moral  Tact,"  with  its  trained  intuition  and 
sensitiveness  of  sentiment,  which  enables  even 
the  most  strong  of  will  and  learned  in  matters 
pertaining  to  all  variations  of  the  different 
alleged  causal  series,  to  pick  one's  way  along  the 
difficult  and  often  cloudy  path  of  duty  to  our- 
selves and  to  others.  (Chapter  X.)  All  this 
is  only  to  say  and  to  prove  in  another  way, 
how  much,  in  all  matters  of  morality,  we  follow 
instinctive  and  blind  beliefs  until  we  can  by 

[88] 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

reflection  and  a  moral  choice  raise  them  to  the 
dignity  of  rational  faiths.  But  were  it  not  for 
these  convictions,  and  their  binding  and  guiding 
power  over  the  conduct  of  the  personal  life, 
there  could  be  no  moral  development,  and, 
indeed,  no  such  thing  as  human  society.  Such 
essential  and  potent  factors  of  personality,  its 
constitution  and  its  development,  are  the 
fundamental  moral  beliefs  and  faiths  of  human- 
ity. They,  too,  are  of  the  very  substance  of 
the  Self.  And  for  this  reason  they,  too,  are 
among  the  incomparably  greater  beliefs  and 
faiths  of  the  human  race.  More  even  than 
the  intellectual  beliefs,  are  these  ethical  beliefs 
the  very  life-blood  of  a  vigorous  and  conquering 
personality,  —  in  the  individual,  in  the  nation, 
in  the  entire  race. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  "greater 
beliefs"  must  be  appealed  to  in  every  effort 
to  vindicate  the  power  of  the  intellect  to  pene- 
trate into,  and  to  interpret,  the  experience  of 
objective  reality.  This  process  of  penetrating 
and  interpreting  is  all  a  species  of  personifying. 
It  culminates  in  the  scientific  faith  in  the  ra- 
tional Unity  of  Nature;  and  in  the  religious 
belief  in  one  rational  Will,  the  personal  Abso- 
lute, whom  faith  calls  God.  But  neither  of 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

these  faiths,  in  any  of  its  attempts  to  establish 
define  and  defend  itself,  can  escape  the  obliga- 
tion to  be  reasonable;  and  in  all  attempts  to 
bring  about  harmony  between  them,  the  same 
obligation  must  be  laid  upon  the  consciences  of 
both.  Willful  self-assertion,  the  pretence  of 
knowledge  which  goes  way  beyond  the  reality, 
controversy  which  conducts  itself  without  su- 
preme regard  for  the  faiths  of  morality,  or  in 
stupid  ignorance  of  these  faiths,  is  as  unseemly 
and  futile  in  the  one  as  in  the  other.  In  all 
their  controversies,  both  science  and  faith  are 
bound  to  be  both  reasonable  and  moral.  For  if 
science  thinks  it  has  a  greater  assurance  of 
knowledge,  it,  too,  cannot  forget  that  its  ulti- 
mate foundations  and  highest  towers  and  stee- 
ples are  laid  in  unproved  but  invincible  beliefs. 
And  religion  need  not  be  abashed,  or  less  con- 
fident and  joyful  in  its  convictions,  because 
they  do  not  admit  so  freely  of  illustration,  not 
to  say  confirmation,  by  the  sensuous  experiences 
of  sight,  hearing,  touch,  taste,  and  smell.  For, 
in  general,  the  things  of  faith,  whether  we  assign 
them  to  the  department  of  science,  or  of  morals, 
or  of  religion,  are  not  to  be  got  at,  or  under- 
stood, or  appreciated,  in  this  way.  But  we  are 
anticipating  what  needs  a  fuller  development. 
[901 


LESSER  AND  GREATER  BELIEFS 

From  the  practical  point  of  view,  the  greatest 
and  most  effective,  both  upon  the  inner  life 
of  the  soul  and  upon  the  life  of  conduct,  of  all 
human  beliefs,  is  the  faith  in  a  Living  God,  or 
ever-active  and  immanent,  perfect  Ethical 
Spirit.  This  belief  does  not  identify  the  world 
in  which  science  believes,  with  God;  but  it 
refuses  to  vacate  this  world,  or  any  part  of  it, 
of  God.  It  also  denies  the  adequacy  of  the 
mechanical  explanation  of  the  world;  and  it 
thus  asserts  that  to  understand  and  to  interpret 
the  phenomena  with  which  experience  makes 
us  acquainted,  whether  phenomena  of  physical 
nature  or  of  psychical  nature,  and  their  respec- 
tive developments,  something  more  than  the 
facts  and  laws  that  constitute  the  body  of  the 
positive  sciences  is  necessary.  Only  the  belief 
in  a  Living  God  furnishes  the  explanatory  and 
illumining  principle  necessary  to  understand 
the  world.  In  the  one  World,  room  must  be 
made  for  the  ideals  of  the  spirit  and  the 
realities  of  sense. 

It  remains  just  to  notice  in  this  connection, 
that  the  relation  between  the  will  to  believe, 
and  these  different  greater  faiths  which  are  all 
of  them  essential  to  the  constitution  and  de- 
velopment of  the  personal  life,  is  far  from  being 

[91] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

in  all  cases  exactly  the  same.  Most  of  the 
intellectual  beliefs  continue  to  operate  in  a 
quasi-compulsory  way,  whether  they  are  con- 
sciously accepted  with  confidence  as  guides  to 
the  will,  or  not.  We  have  little  or  no  choice 
as  to  whether  we  will  believe,  in  some  sort  or 
to  some  extent,  in  the  reality  of  our  own  Self 
and  of  other  selves  and  of  things;  in  the  actual 
operation  of  the  law  of  sufficient  reason;  in 
the  actuality  of  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect; 
and  in  other  similar  forms  of  belief.  But  our 
moral  and  religious  faiths  do  not  stand  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  relation  to  the  attitude  of  the 
choice,  which  seems  to  us  and  to  others,  to 
accept  or  to  reject  them.  These  faiths  are 
more  delicate,  more  complex,  more  subtle,  more 
apparently  escapable,  so  to  say.  But  they  are 
by  no  means  gone  from  the  unwilling  soul,  even 
when  they  seem  to  be  so.  The  soul,  even  when 
"paralyzed"  by  the  extremest  "obstinacy  of 
intellect"  is  never  quite  dead  to  the  quickening 
power  of  its  inalienable  moral  and  religious 
beliefs  and  faiths.  To  lack  them  wholly  would 
be  to  cease  being  a  person  in  any  true  and 
valuable  meaning  of  that  term.  To  lose  them 
completely  and  forever  from  the  soul  is  to  lose 
the  soul. 
[92] 


CHAPTER  IV 
RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS  OF  BELIEF 

HE  discovery  that  all  the  greater  be- 
liefs enter  as  factors  into  the  very 
"substance  of  the  Self"  — that  is, 
help  to  form  the  constitution  and  to  set  the 
conditions  for  the  successful  development  of 
the  personal  life,  —  has  given  us  a  valuable  clue 
to  the  answer  of  the  practical  question:  What 
should  I  believe?  But  it  has  by  no  means 
furnished  a  completely  available  answer  to 
that  question.  We  already  know  that  we 
must  have  faith  in  the  reality,  efficiency,  and 
value  of  our  own  selves,  and  in  the  authority 
and  value  of  our  powers  of  knowledge,  when 
rightly  employed  in  finding  out  the  existence 
and  nature  of  the  objects  of  knowledge,  other 
selves  and  things.  But  we  do  not  yet  know  the 
more  definite  causes  and  limitations  of  this  f  aith» 
—  as  to  what  we  really  are,  as  Well  as  that  we 
really  are;  and  as  to  the  particular  spheres 
and  conditions  of  our  efficiency  in  action,  or 

[93] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

how  we  shall  by  cultivation  attain  it  in  higher 
degrees.  Even  less  does  this  bare  belief  give 
us  the  answer  to  the  question,  What  can  I 
know?  or,  How  definitely  shall  I  apply  this 
general  belief  in  my  capacity  for  some  knowl- 
edge of  what  is  real  and  true,  to  the  enlargement 
of  that  capacity;  and,  finally,  to  the  attain- 
ment of  the  utmost  possible  of  the  most  valuable 
knowledge.  The  will  to  live  compels  the  so- 
called  will  to  believe  that  I  am  an  active  cogni- 
tive Self;  but  it  does  not  furnish  me  with  the 
reasons  for  trusting,  or  the  rules  for  regulating, 
this  belief. 

The  insufficiency  of  the  general  answer 
afforded  by  the  discovery  that  certain  beliefs, 
which  constitute,  define  and  consecrate  the  moral 
and  religious  nature  of  man,  are  indispensable 
to  personal  life,  is  even  more  apparent.  For,\ 
as  has  already  been  pointed  out,  the  attitude 
of  the  will  to  believe,  toward  all  such  beliefs, 
is  somewhat  conspicuously  different  from  that  I 
which  characterizes  our  "intellectual  beliefs." 
In  order  to  be  moral  (the  word  "moral"  is  here 
used  in  its  widest  signification,  so  as  to  include 
every  species  and  degree  of  bad  as  well  as  good 
conduct),  —  in  order  to  have  moral  being  at 
all,  one  must  more  or  less  consciously  will  to 

F941 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

believe  in  moral  distinctions  and  moral  values. 
This  is,  however,  a  kind  of  faith  which  does  not 
appear  to  be  forced  in  the  same  way  as  the 
belief  that  two  and  two  are  four;  that  the  three 
angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  in  sum  to  two 
right  angles;  or  that  every  effect  must  have  a 
definite  and  adequate  cause,  —  as  the  popular 
statement  of  a  much  misapprehended  principle 
of  reasoning  in  matters  of  physical  relations  is 
apt  to  run.  But  in  order  to  be  truly  moral  or 
truly  religious,  —  not  to  say,  truly  good  and 
sincerely  devout,  —  it  would  seem  necessary 
that  one  should  hold  certain  beliefs  in  a  "will- 
full"  and  definite  way.  The  faiths  of  morals 
and  religion  have  a  character  which  implies 
more  of  a  grip  on  the  will  by  the  way  of  con- 
scious choice.  Even  this  kind  of  will  to  believe, 
with  the  precious  comforts  and  rewards  of  the 
faiths  which  invite  the  will,  does  not  of  itself 
sufficiently  inform  the  inquiring  mind  just 
what  it  should  believe.  The  belief  that  all 
conduct  has  moral  value,  and  that  this  value 
is  great,  or  even  incomparable,  and  lays  an 
unconditioned  mandate  upon  the  will,  does  not 
by  any  means  suffice  to  tell  the  inquirer  just 
what  he  ought  to  do.  In  similar  manner: 
The  belief  in  the  existence  of  invisible  personal 

[95] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

agencies,  with  which  man  holds  relations  that 
have  something  to  do  with  determining  man's 
weal  or  woe,  if  we  consider  this  the  minimum 
to  which  the  so-called  religious  consciousness 
can  be  reduced,  is  far  enough  from  justifying 
such  a  faith  in  God  as  shall  satisfy  a  rational 
inquiring  human  mind. 

We  see,  then,  that  not  even  all  the  greater 
beliefs  can  dispense  with  other  claims  upon  the 
will  to  believe  than  just  this,  that  they  belong 
to  the  constitution  of  a  personal  life,  if  they 
are  going  to  assert  their  rights,  or  place  us 
under  a  moral  obligation  to  accept  them. 
That  a  man  must  have  some  sort  of  moral  and 
quasi-religious,  as  well  as  intellectual  beliefs, 
follows  from  the  fact  that  he  is  a  man.  With- 
out these  beliefs,  he  would  not  be  a  man  at  all, 
in  the  fullest  meaning  of  the  conception  of  a 
man.  But  what  sort?  What  quality  of  such 
beliefs  and  faiths  is  it  that  enforces  their  claims 
to  acceptance  in  something  better  than  a  vague 
and  practically  inefficient  way;  and  that, 
therefore,  constitutes  and  enforces  the  obliga- 
tions they  impose  upon  us?  And  what  shall 
be  the  test,  if  any  satisfactory  test  there  may 
be  assumed  to  be,  of  the  right  sort?  Only  the 
right  sort  of  faiths  have  the  right  to  command, 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

or  even  to  solicit,  the  will  to  believe.  Only  this 
sort  can  properly  be  supposed  to  put  a  personal 
being  under  obligations. 

Now,  the  answer  to  such  questions  as  those 
which  have  just  been  raised,  springs  with  a 
fine  and  impressive  spontaneity  to  our  lips. 
To  have  such  rights,  and  to  impose  such  obliga- 
tions, the  beliefs  and  faiths  of  a  person  endowed 
with  reason  and  moral  freedom,  must  appear 
as  reasonable.  Virtually,  this  demand  to  be 
"reasonable"  is  precious,  and  must  be  regarded 
so,  in  the  estimate  of  all  men  alike.  The 
opponents  of  "Rationalism,"  technically  so- 
called,  whether  from  the  standpoint  of  theologi- 
cal dogmatism,  agnostic  scepticism,  Bergsonian 
intuitionism,  or  Pragmatic  emotionalism,  are 
all  alike  averse  to  being  called  "irrational," 
or  suspected  of  a  lack,  in  any  respect,  of  the 
most  perfect  reasonableness.  For,  indeed,  in 
the  last  resort,  all  human  opinions,  beliefs,  and 
hopes,  as  well  as  all  scientific  conclusions  and 
common-sense  maxims,  must  be  tested  by  their 
rationality.  But  "being  reasonable"  is  by  no 
means  always  the  equivalent  of  being  conscious 
of  reasons  that,  without  any  admixture  of  be- 
lief, make  demonstrably  clear  to  the  intellect 
the  grounds  on  which  belief  itself  is  founded. 

[971 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Indeed,  in  this  sense  there  are  no  altogether 
reasonable  attitudes  of  mind,  whether  classi- 
fied as  beliefs  or  as  "knowledge-judgments." 

If  complete  acquaintance  with  all  the  reasons 
were  necessary  in  order  to  be  "reasonable," 
there  could  be  neither  knowledge  nor  faith 
entitled  to  the  compliment  of  the  term.  Science 
and  religion  would  both  become  "irrational." 

On  this  point  I  have  elsewhere  said  ("Phi- 
losophy of  Religion,"  vol.  I,  pp.  305  f .)  chiefly 
with  regard  to  the  religious  nature:  "The 
conception  of  man's  rationality  is  comprehen- 
sive and  varied,  not  to  say  vague  and  uncer- 
tain, in  large  measure  because  its  content  is 
so  profound,  manifold,  and  in  some  respects 
mysterious.  Man  has  never  yet  succeeded  in 
fully  understanding  his  own  rational  nature." 
And  again:  "If  analysis  should  succeed  in  dis- 
closing all  the  secrets  of  man's  rational  life,  in 
the  stricter  meaning  of  the  word  *  rational,5 
we  should  not  in  this  way  be  put  into  posses- 
sion of  the  entire  account  of  his  religious  experi- 
ence. For  the  non-rational  which  is  by  no 
means  the  same  thing  as  the  contrary  to  reason 
has  its  part  to  play  in  shaping  this  experience. 
But  there  is  also  very  much  in  the  higher  forms 
of  religious  experience"  (and,  for  that  matter, 

[98] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

of  all  degrees  and  kinds  of  experience)  "which 
defies  or  baffles  the  effort  to  interpret  it  in  this 
way.  This  remark  applies  to  the  beliefs,  the 
sentiments,  and  the  practices  of  religion.  In 
all  these  spheres  of  religious  experience  we 
come  at  last  on  certain  unanalyzable  and  inex- 
plicable facts."  "Everywhere  the  principle 
of  the  dynamic  unity  of  the  soul  in  its  various 
forms  of  functioning  must  be  maintained.  The 
action  and  reaction  of  the  lower  impulses  and 
of  the  rational  functions  takes  place  in  the 
unity  of  experience.  Fear,  hope,  the  desire  for 
communion,  and  the  sense  of  various  needs, 
excite  and  direct  the  intellect  and  the  imagina- 
tion; and  these  faculties  in  turn  create  and 
modify  the  object  of  the  various  religious  im- 
pulses and  emotions.  The  higher  ethical  and 
sesthetical  sentiments  respond  to  those  ideals 
which  they  have  themselves  induced  the  figu- 
rate  and  discursive  faculties  to  create." 

What  is  true  of  the  greater  beliefs  and  faiths 
of  religion  is,  in  substantially  the  same  way, 
true  of  all  our  greater  beliefs,  scientific,  social, 
moral,  and  sesthetical.  Their  reasonableness 
(if  any  one  object,  through  historical  associa- 
tions or  on  account  of  prejudice,  to  the  word 
"rationality")  is  their  only  conceivable,  as  it 

[99] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

is  their  nearest  approach  to  an  actually  final, 
test.  But  by  this  test  we  must  not  understand 
their  wholly  scientific  character,  or  the  ease 
with  which  they  lend  themselves  to  mathemat- 
ical treatment  or  to  logical  demonstration. 
Even  the  degree  with  which  they  minister  to 
our  more  strictly  intellectual  satisfactions  is 
not  wholly  dependent  upon  the  manner  in 
which  we  arrive  at  their  proof,  —  whether  by 
the  methods  of  experimental  science  or  of 
extended  observation. 

Any  search  for  the  marks  of  that  reasonable- 
ness in  which  the  rights  and  obligations  of  the 
different  contesting  or  conflicting  forms  of 
belief  consist,  will  greatly  be  helped  by  recalling 
in  this  connection  the  very  important  distinc- 
tion between  the  causes  and  the  reasons  of  man's 
beliefs  and  faiths.  By  "causes"  we  are  now 
to  understand  the  different  influences  which  in 
fact  give  more  definite  shape  to  the  greater 
beliefs  and  faiths  of  the  individual.  By  "rea- 
sons" we  mean  the  explanations  which  satisfy 
the  intellect,  and  so  influence  in  particular  direc- 
tions the  will  to  believe,  and  support  and  de- 
fend the  personal  life  in  the  choices  which  it 
has  made. 

Causes,  when  they  are  recognized  as  steady 

[100] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

in  operation,  universal  or  widely  general  in 
distribution,  and  of  value  for  strengthening  the 
grasp  of  will,  may  often  very  properly  be  con- 
sidered as  available  reasons  for  according  more 
of  intellectual  respect  and  confidence  to  any 
particular  belief.  We  have  already  admitted 
that  this  is  true  even  of  that  unanalyzed  and 
untested  confidence  which  constitutes  for  many 
minds  the  sole  proof  of  some  cherished  belief; 
and  which  with  all  minds  is  of  no  little  con- 
trolling influence  over  all  their  faiths.  All 
men  tend,  and  reasonably,  to  find  a  reason  for 
the  faith  that  is  in  them,  in  the  very  intensity 
of  the  conviction  with  which  they  cling  to  that 
same  faith.  They  will  to  hold  on  to  it  as  to  a 
thing  of  value. 

If,  then,  we  can  get  at  the  causes  which  have 
operated  to  produce  any  intense  and  tenacious 
conviction,  we  often,  perhaps  generally,  find 
that  they  have  in  them  a  measure  of  rational 
justification  for  the  belief  of  which  we  are  con- 
victed. For  example,  one  of  the  most  frequent 
and  powerful  causes  of  the  prevalent  faiths  of 
morals  and  religion  is  the  early  age  at  which 
the  faiths  were  implanted.  The  popular  per- 
version of  the  shrewd  Jewish  maxim  —  "Train 
up  a  child  in  the  trade  or  handicraft  in  which 

[101] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

he  is  destined  to  go  on  in  life,  and  when  he  is 
old  he  will  not  depart  from  it" — gives  a  sort 
of  reason  for  abiding  on  the  whole  in  the  path 
of  ancestral,  almost  we  might  say,  inherited 
beliefs.  It  has  been  wisely  as  well  as  wittily 
said  of  the  vagaries  of  certain  current  views 
of  Pragmatism:  "New  theories  are  but  the 
maxims  of  certain  individuals;  the  old  maxims 
represent  the  sense  of  centuries."  But  if 
venerable  ancestry  were  made  the  sole,  or  even 
the  most  important  test  of  the  reasonableness 
of  human  beliefs  and  faiths,  there  would  never 
be  any  progress  either  in  knowledge  or  in 
believing. 

Another  potent  cause  which  our  beliefs,  for 
the  most  part  in  an  unrecognized  but  extremely 
seductive  way,  bring  to  bear  upon  the  will,  is 
the  agreeable  or  disagreeable  quality  of  the 
beliefs  themselves.  Now  it  is  simple  psycho- 
logical fact,  that  agreeableness  to  our  feelings 
has  a  marked  influence  on  determining  the 
seeming  truthfulness  of  any  judgment,  whether 
held  by  the  mind  as  a  matter  of  knowledge  or 
only  as  a  more  or  less  uncertain  belief.  In  a 
way,  it  is  true  of  our  knowledges,  as  it  is  of  our 
beliefs,  that  the  relation  they  bear  to  our  emo- 
tions is  inevitably  received  as  an  item  in  their 

[102] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

favor  or  in  their  disproof.  Men  whose  minds 
work  in  an  orderly  and  methodical  fashion,  and 
to  whom  what  is  not  obviously  rational  is  also 
unlovely,  no  matter  how  devoted  they  may 
profess  themselves  to  the  bare  facts,  are  not 
at  all  so  apt  to  believe  in  a  "pluralistic  uni- 
verse," as  are  minds  of  a  more  irregular,  im- 
aginative and  artistic  temperament.  To  the 
feelings  of  the  latter  type  of  a  mind,  too  much 
semblance  of  unity  and  rational  order  has  a 
distinctly  disagreeable  cast.  They  have  the 
emotion  of  Tom  Loker  in  Mrs.  Stowe's  novel, 
"Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  when  he  told  the  de- 
mure Quaker  lady  who  kept  tucking  him  up 
in  bed:  "If  you  bottle  a  fellow  up  too  tight,  I 
shall  split." 

Another  powerful  cause  of  differing  beliefs 
is  their  harmony  with  convention,  or  wide- 
spreading  acceptance.  This  cause  not  infre- 
quently combines  with  the  one  just  mentioned 
to  influence  one's  beliefs  in  a  doubly  forceful 
way.  Most  people  do  not  enjoy  the  disapproval 
of  others  in  respect  of  the  doubts  and  beliefs 
of  the  political,  business,  or  social  circle  amidst 
which  they  move,  or  of  the  religious  communion 
prevailing  in  their  country  or  neighborhood. 
Indeed,  that  effect  of  custom  which  Mr.  Bal- 

[103] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

four  has  so  happily  characterized  as  a  "psy- 
chological climate,"  is  one  of  the  most  prevalent 
and  powerful  causes  of  belief. 

All  these  causes,  whether  operating  "below 
the  threshold  of  consciousness,"  or  in  the 
clearest  light  as  well-recognized  motives,  have 
a  certain  claim  to  a  certain  kind  of  reasonable- 
ness. Speaking  in  a  broad  historical  and  phil- 
osophical manner,  it  is  distinctly  reasonable 
that  mankind  at  large  should  regulate  their 
beliefs  and  faiths  in  accordance  with  all  three 
of  these,  in  fact,  most  powerful  influences. 
These  are  all  causes  which  have  the  rights 
of  reason.  They  are  causes  which,  when 
recognized  by  the  individual  as  reasons, 
put  him  under  a  certain  amount  of  moral 
obligation  in  his  attempt  to  answer  for  him- 
self the  practical  question,  What  should  I 
believe? 

That  the  beliefs  of  olden  time,  the  beliefs 
effected  and  consecrated  by  the  experience  of 
long  lines  of  our  ancestry  should,  in  general,  be 
assigned  a  title  to  a  considerable  claim  to 
reasonableness,  is,  as  an  ethnological  and  social 
fact,  a  reasonable  thing  for  the  mind  that  re- 
flects upon  the  conditions  necessary  for  the  most 
real  and  solid  development  of  the  race.  So, 

[104] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

too,  is  it  reasonable  that  the  beliefs  which  are 
most  consonant  with  the  feelings  of  the  race, 
especially  those  most  in  harmony  with  the 
loftier  inspirations  and  purest  sentiments  of 
the  race,  should  have  the  chance  of  preference 
largely  in  their  favor,  —  at  least,  in  the  long 
run,  as  the  saying  is.  But  above  all,  it  is  very 
reasonable,  and  indeed  the  only  condition  on 
which  any  political  or  social,  not  to  say  more 
definitively  moral  and  religious  solidarity  could 
be  effected,  that  men  should  be  inclined  to 
something  like  substantial  unity  of  belief  under 
the  influence  of  custom  and  implicit  or  express 
conventions.  In  evidence  of  our  present  con- 
tention, let  any  one  ask  himself  this  question: 
If  you  had  the  power  to  place  Reason  in  control 
of  human  society  and  wished  to  secure  its  safe 
and  sound  development,  how  would  you  dis- 
pense with  any  of  these  causes  and  yet  secure 
such  a  development? 

These  considerations  furnish  some  maxims 
of  a  negative,  if  not  of  a  strictly  positive  char- 
acter, that  are  helpful  toward  the  answer  of 
our  main  inquiry.  Similar  maxims  are  found 
in  the  proverbs  of  all  languages,  savage  as 
well  as  most  highly  cultured.  They  amount 
to  the  exhortation: 

[105] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

"Hear  counsel,  and  receive  instruction, 
That  thou  mayest  be  wise  in  thy  latter  end." 

And  when  some  Elihu  offers, 

"I  will  fetch  my  knowledge  from  afar," 

some  experienced  Job  replies  with  biting  sar- 
casm: 

"No  doubt  but  ye  are  the  people 
And  wisdom  shall  die  with  you, 
But  I  have  understanding  as  well  as  you; 
I  am  not  inferior  to  you." 

In  a  word,  we  all  appeal  to  the  belief  that 
there  is  something  of  value  in  the  conclusions 
of  a  long  experience.  For  every  individual  who 
would  form  for  himself  a  system  of  valuable  and 
safe  guides,  it  is  by  no  means  a  bad  practice  to 
keep  up  the  reminder:  Do  not  despise  the 
beliefs  and  faiths  of  your  ancestors  and  of  the 
multitude  of  your  contemporaries,  —  especially 
those  beliefs  and  faiths  that  have  maintained 
themselves,  substantially  unchanged,  through 
untold  centuries  of  the  history  of  the  race. 
Even  the  persistent  mistaken  and  superstitious 
beliefs,  probably  have  a  "soul  of  truth  "in  them. 
There  are,  indeed,  in  every  generation  current 
beliefs,  and  practices  founded  upon  them, 
which  are  worthy  of  rejection  as  untrue  and 
ethically  contemptible;  but  the  individual 

[106] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

cannot  best  evince  his  own  reasonableness  by 
giving  to  them  an  unreasoning  rejection. 

But  neither  inheritance  and  early  implanting, 
nor  the  craving  for  agreeable  and  the  aversion 
to  disagreeable  sensations,  nor  the  unreflecting 
acceptance  of  what  is  current  and  custom- 
ary, can  render  the  beliefs  of  the  individual 
reasonable  and  morally  obligatory.  To  sup- 
pose this  would  render  all  social  progress 
inexplicable,  and  all  progress  of  the  individual 
person  impossible.  Progress  for  the  race  has 
always  been  quite  as  dependent  upon  changes 
in  the  character  of  the  beliefs  and  faiths  of 
the  race  as  upon  the  advance  of  the  positive 
sciences.  This  is,  of  course,  especially  true 
of  those  beliefs  which  concern  themselves 
with  matters  political,  social,  moral,  and  re- 
ligious. 

We  need,  then,  further  to  inquire,  What  by 
right  should  determine  our  beliefs  and  faiths? 
Or,  more  definitely  expressed,  and  regarded 
from  the  somewhat  advanced  point  of  view 
which  we  have  already  reached:  What  are  the 
characteristics  of  that  reasonableness  for  which 
we  should  look  in  regulating  them? 

In  answering  this  question  we  are  bound  to 
say,  first  of  all,  that  the  amount  of  evidence  in 

[107] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

fact,  and  in  sound  inference  from  fact,  which 
any  belief  can  produce,  stands  in  the  first  rank 
of  its  claims  to  be  our  belief.  But  in  saying  this 
two  things  should  be  quite  clearly  kept  in  mind. 
One  of  these  is  the  difference  which  always 
maintains  itself  between  a  belief  and  a  matter 
of  knowledge.  The  distinction,  as  based  upon 
the  degrees  of  evidence,  is  a  vanishing  one;  but 
as  long  as  it  exists  at  all  from  the  mind's  point 
of  view,  it  differences  the  two  mental  attitudes. 
From  the  same  distinction  it  follows  that  we 
cannot  reasonably  expect  for  our  beliefs  and 
faiths  the  same  degree  and  kind  of  evidence 
which  we  are  quite  warranted  in  demanding 
for  our  "knowledge- judgments." 

But  the  second  of  the  suggestions  which  are 
in  place  here  is  quite  as  important.  There  are 
various  kinds  of  facts,  to  which  are  applicable 
the  various  kinds  of  evidence.  Every  belief 
that  arises  to  consciousness  in  every  individual 
mind  is  itself  a  fact;  and  beliefs  that  persist- 
ently arise  and  maintain  themselves  in  a  great 
multitude  of  minds  are  very  important  facts. 
For  example,  the  belief  of  A.  B.  that  he  at  the 
bewitching  hour  of  twelve  last  night,  saw  the 
ghost  of  his  dead  friend,  is  a  fact.  It  needs  to 
be  accounted  for,  either  as  a  dream,  a  halluci- 

[108] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

nation,  or  what  we  —  as  though  all  facts  were 
not  that —  call  "an  actual  fact."  But  no  mat- 
ter of  how  much  importance  it  may  be  to  A.  B., 
it  is  not  necessarily  worth  much  to  the  psychol- 
ogist, as  evidence  to  the  trustworthiness  of  the 
belief  in  ghosts.  The  same  thing  may  be  said, 
though  with  less  confidence,  of  the  testimony  of 
C.  D.  as  to  the  table-tippings  which  he  has  wit- 
nessed. But  when  multitudes  of  men  in  all 
times  affirm,  "for  a  fact,"  that  they  have  seen 
and  talked  with  ghosts;  or,  better  still,  so- 
called  "scientists"  themselves  affirm  their 
observation  of  the  facts  of  table-tipping  and 
other  allied  phenomena;  we  all  quite  reason- 
ably begin  "to  sit  up  and  take  notice."  We 
feel  an  obligation  to  adjust  our  own  beliefs,  if 
we  can,  to  the  evidence  offered  by  such  an  array 
of  facts  of  belief. 

The  relation  of  belief  to  inference  is  one  of 
the  most  interesting  but  complicated  of  the 
several  psychological  problems  connected  with 
the  entire  subject.  Its  treatment  in  modern 
philosophical  English  may  be  said  to  have  been 
opened  by  Locke's  discussion  "Of  Probability" 
and  "Of  the  Degrees  of  Assent,"  which  are  the 
Chapters  XV  and  XVI  of  the  Fourth  Book  of 
the  "Essay  Concerning  Human  Understand- 

[109] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

ing."  His  conclusion  is  that  our  "Assent" 
and  by  this  word  he  intends  to  indicate  the 
essential  mental  attitude  in  all  affairs  of  be- 
lief and  faith  —  "ought  to  be  regulated  by  the 
Grounds  of  Probability. ' '  Of  these  * '  grounds ' '  he 
has  previously  said :  * '  The  grounds  of  Probability 
are  two;  Conformity  with  our  own  experience^ 
or  the  Testimony  of  others9  Experience."  But 
in  our  own  experience  the  prominent  fact  is 
just  this  that  we  either  do  believe  or  do  not 
believe.  The  statement  of  Locke,  therefore, 
resolves  itself  on  this  point  into  the  very  sane 
conclusion  that  one  of  the  best  ways  to  estab- 
lish the  reasonableness  of  any  particular  belief 
is  derived  from  the  conclusion  of  a  careful 
reflection  on  our  part  over  the  question:  How 
does  this  particular  fact  of  belief  harmonize 
with  the  rest  of  the  facts,  —  and  most  especially 
with  the  most  important,  clearly  manifest,  and 
practically  valuable  facts,  of  this  same  experi- 
ence? And  here  we  come  down  again  upon 
the  bed-rock  of  all  the  rights  and  obligations 
belonging  to  the  activities  and  the  interests  of 
the  personal  life.  We  have  the  right,  and  we 
are  under  the  obligation,  to  seek  the  highest 
and  most  worthy  harmony  in  the  development 
of  this  life.  How  far  this  is  from  being  selfish 

[no] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

we  have  made  quite  clear  in  another  connec- 
tion.    ("What  Ought  I  to  Do?"  p.  270  f.) 

Locke  displays  his  customary,  sound  common- 
sense  when  he  couples  with  the  experience  of 
the  individual,  the  experience  of  others  as 
affording  legitimate  grounds  of  belief  in  our- 
selves. This  is  so  as  a  matter  of  course;  and  it 
is  so  in  all  matters  of  knowledge  as  well  as  in 
all  matters  of  belief.  Most  of  what  we  know, 
or  claim  to  know,  is  based  upon  the  testimony 
of  others;  in  notable  cases  the  only  evidence 
which  we  have,  that  can  be  regarded  as  trust- 
worthy, is  the  testimony  of  our  fellows  that 
such  has  actually  been  their  experience.  In  all 
matters  of  knowledge,  too,  we  trust  most  to  the 
authority  of  those  whom  we  believe  to  know 
best;  to  those  who  profess  to  have  themselves 
experienced  the  facts,  or  who  have  been  best 
equipped  for  making  trustworthy  inferences 
from  the  facts.  There  could  be  no  science 
and  no  education,  if  this  form  of  credence,  which 
indeed  often  enough  degenerates  into  credulity, 
did  not  enter  into  all  the  accumulations  of  the 
world's  stock  of  knowledge.  Such  a  procedure 
of  our  minds  in  their  attitudes  of  faith  is,  in 
some  respects,  most  reasonable  when  we  are 
dealing  with  matters  about  which  those  who 

[mi 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

teach  us  only  claim  to  have  probable  evidence. 
If  they  could,  they  would  not  have  us  take 
from  them  their  more  or  less  probable  beliefs 
as  though  these  beliefs  were  already  certified 
knowledge.  Indeed,  the  wisest  and  most  trust- 
worthy authorities  in  the  positive  (sic)  sciences 
are  continually  warning  us  that  their  most 
cherished  conclusions  have  —  not  a  few  of 
them  —  as  yet  only  attained  a  higher  or  lower 
degree  of  probability.  They  are  still,  that  is, 
inferences  which  may  reasonably  claim  belief, 
but  which  cannot  demand  the  allegiance  of 
perfect  confidence,  as  indubitable  knowledge. 
There  is  no  valid  reason  why  these  grounds  of 
probability,  and  the  reasons  for  faith  which 
they  lay  and  support,  should  not  also  be  trusted 
in  the  most  complicated  experiences  of  the 
moral  and  religious  life  and  the  development  of 
personality.  Indeed,  in  certain  important  re- 
spects, morals  and  religion  are  the  peculiarly 
appropriate  sphere  of  so-called  authority. 

At  this  point  our  reflections  are  brought  face 
to  face  with  two  very  important  problems. 
These  concern  the  relation  of  argument  to 
belief,  or  —  to  use  the  terms  employed  by 
Cardinal  Newman  —  of  inference  to  assent; 
and  the  place  which  "authority"  may  reason- 

[112] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

ably  occupy  in  recommending  or  prescribing, 
not  to  say  dictating,  human  beliefs.  To  speak 
as  though  faith  could  really  be  enforced  by 
authority — "single-handed,"  so  to  say — would 
seem  to  imply  a  false  conception  of  the  real 
nature  of  faith. 

In  considering  the  first  of  these  two  problems, 
the  psychological  puzzle  is  to  determine  the 
legitimate,  the  rational,  and  really  trustworthy 
relation  of  inference  and  assent;  of  our  faiths 
and  the  arguments  or  so-called  "proofs"  which 
we  advance  in  their  behalf.  May  belief  reason- 
ably go  beyond  the  degree  of  evidence  that  is 
available  as  to  the  truth  of  that  which  is  be- 
lieved? That  belief  does  often,  and  even  habit- 
ually, go  beyond  the  evidence,  is  a  patent 
enough  fact  of  history  and  of  daily  experience. 
But  is  this  reasonable?  To  the  question  as 
put  somewhat  brusquely  in  this  form,  and  es- 
pecially for  purposes  of  the  control  of  conduct 
through  putting  the  will  under  obligation  to 
believe,  we  have  no  hesitation  in  giving  an 
affirmative  answer.  Yes:  human  beliefs  and 
faiths  have  other  rights  than  those  derived 
from  inference  and  argument;  they  do,  in 
fact,  place  us  under  obligations  for  which  we 
can  often  enough  give  no  answer  wholly  satis- 

[113] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

factory  in  the  logic-compelling  court  of  the 
intellect.  This  would  be  true,  if  for  no  other 
reason,  as  inescapably  due  to  the  fact  that,  in 
general,  the  most  powerful  causes  of  human 
beliefs  and  faiths  can  with  difficulty,  if  at  all, 
be  put  by  the  intellect  in  the  form  of  reasons. 
There  is,  however,  a  better  way  of  rendering 
this  fact  of  the  superiority  of  many  of  our 
faiths,  especially  those  of  the  higher  order,  to 
the  proofs  for  them,  quite  reasonable.  Let 
us  briefly  follow  this  better  way. 

In  arguing  about  beliefs,  and  presenting  evi- 
dence in  their  behalf  or  against  them,  it  is  cus- 
tomary to  pay  little  or  no  attention  to  the  fact 
of  the  beliefs  themselves.  But  they  are  there, 
somehow  posited  in  human  consciousness,  and 
as  facts  entitled  to  speak  for  themselves  as 
all  facts  are.  Now,  argument  about  the  truth- 
fulness of  any  belief  cannot  be  convincing, 
even  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  unprejudiced 
intellect,  without  taking  the  fact  of  the  belief 
itself  into  the  account.  Indeed,  the  starting- 
point  of  the  argument  "around  and  about"  the 
fact  is,  most  reasonably,  the  fact  itself.  And 
the  conclusion  of  the  argument  must  be  some- 
how, even  if  it  return  a  verdict  unfavorable  to 
the  truthfulness  of  the  belief,  such  as  to  show  us 

[114] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

how  the  convincing  influence  of  the  belief  could 
come  to  be  so  strong  as  it  certainly  is. 

In  the  arguments  pro  and  con  the  most  im- 
portant and  persistent  of  human  beliefs  and 
faiths,  this  rendering  of  justice  to  the  fact  of 
their  existence  is  far  too  often  not  attempted 
at  all;  or  if  attempted,  is  very  imperfectly  done. 
For  example:  We  have  now  before  the  public 
an  enterprising  group  of  young  psychologists 
who  are  arguing  "round  and  about"  the  trust 
which  it  is  "natural"  to  repose  in  the  deliver- 
ances of  self-consciousness,  and  even  over  the 
existence  of  any  such  mental  activities.  This 
they  are  doing,  in  pretty  total  obliviousness  of 
the  universal  fact  of  human  belief  in  the  trust- 
worthiness of  self-consciousness;  and  of  the 
particular  fact  that  they,  as  well  as  the  rest  of 
us,  are  actually  trusting  it  implicitly  in  their 
conclusive  (sic)  argument  against  its  trust- 
worthiness. Of  all  the  greater  moral  and 
religious  faiths,  as  well  as  of  those  metaphysi- 
cal beliefs  which  underly  the  systems  of  science 
and  philosophy,  the  same  thing  is  essentially 
true.  We  are,  perhaps,  eternally  arguing 
"round  and  about"  the  belief  in  God;  but  all 
the  while  the  belief  in  some  form  is  there;  and 
being  there,  it  is  by  far  the  most  important 

[115] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

point  in  all  the  argument,  whether  for  or  against 
the  belief.  For  the  fact  of  the  belief  must  be 
made  reasonable,  whether  we  can  make  the 
content  of  the  belief  reasonable,  by  way  of 
arguing  about  it,  or  not. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  cannot  properly  con- 
found the  attitude  of  mind  with  which  any 
particular  conclusion  of  a  course  of  inference 
is  received,  with  the  process  or  activity  of 
inference,  by  which  the  conclusion  has  been 
reached.  I  may  still  doubt  about  ghosts,  or 
the  materialization  of  departed  spirits,  while 
accepting  the  logical  nature  of  much  of  the 
argument  about  ghosts  and  spirits,  by  which 
others  reach  the  firm  faith  in  their  actual  exist- 
ence. They  start  the  argument  with  faith  in 
the  alleged  facts,  or  in  those  who  testify  to  their 
having  been  witnesses  to  the  facts.  I  admit  the 
cogency  of  most  of  the  argument,  as  argument; 
but  I  have  not  yet  laid  the  grasp  of  faith  upon 
either  the  alleged  facts  or  the  witnesses  to 
these  facts.  No  wonder,  then,  that  we  so 
often  hear  the  bitter  complaint,  not  only  in 
philosophy  and  theology,  but  even  in  science: 

"Myself  when  young  did  eagerly  frequent 
Doctor  and  Saint,  and  heard  great  argument 
About  it  and  about;  but  evermore 
Came  out  by  the  same  door  wherein  I  went.'* 

[116] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

In  dismissing  for  the  present  these  consid- 
erations, it  is  pertinent  to  remember  what  has 
already  been  said  more  than  once,  —  namely, 
that  in  all  belief,  as  a  rule,  the  reasons  for  the 
assent,  even  where  the  assent  is  most  unhesitat- 
ing, cordial,  fixed,  and  unswerving,  have  been 
only  incompletely  recognized.  They  are,  in- 
deed, still  causes  which  lie  hidden  in  the  belief 
itself,  rather  than  reasons  which  the  intellect 
has  discovered  and  laid  bare  to  itself.  No 
wonder  then  that  our  choicest  beliefs  and 
faiths  so  often  seem  unreasonable,  or  only 
scantily  clothed  in  the  white  raiments  of  an 
unimpeachable  logical  purity;  although  under 
this  transparent  texture  we  seem  to  get  glimpses 
of  a  tightly  fitting  coat-of-mail,  which  renders 
them  quite  invincible  to  attacks  by  way  of  in- 
ference from  totally  different  classes  of  facts. 

It  must  be  frankly  confessed  as  a  task  im- 
possible at  the  present  time  to  discuss  the 
reasonableness  of  having  our  beliefs  and  faiths 
fixed  by  authority,  without  giving  offence  to 
every  advocate  of  the  two  extreme  and  equally 
untenable  positions.  It  is,  however,  distinctly 
obvious  that  the  unreasonable  discrediting  of 
authority  is  the  quite  too  prevalent  extreme  at 
the  present  time.  We  may  be  pardoned  for 

[117] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

saying,  then,  that  the  whole  world  seems  to 
have  gone  mad  in  its  protestantism.  The 
grounds  for  this  extremity  of  protest  against 
"pinning"  any  kind  of  faith  to  any  kind  of 
authority  are  much  easier  to  trace  than  its 
reasonableness  is  to  defend.  They  are  largely 
historical;  and  to  try  to  follow  them  in  this 
direction  would  lead  us  too  far  afield  from  our 
more  simple  practical  aims  and  hopes  of  being 
helpful.  They  are  also  largely  on  "economic" 
grounds  (if  we  may  be  pardoned  the  somewhat 
facetious  use  of  this  imposing  term).  It  is 
cheaper  not  to  think  out  the  grounds  of  belief, 
and  so  to  stick  fast  in  the  old  beliefs,  or  else  to 
turn  braggartly  agnostic,  than  it  is  to  tax  one's 
intellectual  resources  in  the  effort  to  afford 
reasons  for  the  will  in  making  its  choice  among 
conflicting  beliefs.  To  this  we  must  add  the 
fact,  that  much  of  the  regnant  philosophy, 
both  theoretical  and  practical,  has  operated  to 
make  the  public  intellectually  lazy  in  their 
attitude  toward  fundamental  beliefs.  This 
pseudo-philosophy  has  made  current  the  opin- 
ion that  it  does  not  so  much  matter  whether 
a  reality  over  which  our  wills  have  no  control 
is  going  to  verify  our  beliefs  in  the  final  issue, 
as  whether  we  can  skim  along  on  the  surface  of 

[118] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

life  fairly  successfully,  if  we  just  take  them 
as  they  seem,  at  the  time,  best  to  serve  our 
temporary  ends. 

We  shall,  therefore,  limit  ourselves  to  a  simple 
warning  against  either  of  the  two  extremes  to 
which  reference  was  just  made.  No  one  can 
regulate  his  own  mental  attitudes  wisely  and 
safely,  who  thinks  to  escape  from  the  large, 
and  even  dominating  authority  of  those  who 
have  had  most  experience,  and  have  given  most 
reflection  to  this  experience,  in  any  realm 
of  human  beliefs  and  faiths.  It  is  distinctly 
reasonable  that  it  should  be  so.  It  is  distinctly 
unreasonable  for  any  individual  not  to  will 
that  in  his  own  case,  it  shall  be  so.  But  on 
the  other  hand,  no  "Self,"  no  being  with  the 
reason,  moral  freedom,  and  intellectual,  moral, 
and  religious  equipment  for  developing  a  per- 
sonal life,  will  unconditionally  submit  his  beliefs 
and  faiths  to  any  human  authority. 

Another  test  of  the  reasonableness  of  beliefs 
is  the  satisfaction  they  afford  to  those  longings, 
aspirations,  sentiments,  and  other  largely  emo- 
tional attitudes  toward  the  world  and  toward 
the  conduct  of  life,  to  which  we  have  already 
referred  as  entering  into  the  very  substance  of 
the  personal  self.  But  now  we  notice  how  all 

[119] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

the  best  and  noblest  of  these  "feeling-attitudes" 
arise  and  develop  in  connection  with  certain 
"value- judgments."  We  do  tend  to  believe 
in  the  reality,  —  sometime,  somewhere,  some- 
how —  of  that  which  our  higher  sentiments 
and  aspirations  tell  us  ought  to  be  real.  Here 
again  we  must  remind  ourselves,  in  a  yet  more 
emphatic  and  conclusive  way,  that  the  evidence 
for  the  truthfulness  of  any  of  the  greater  beliefs 
lies  forever  hidden,  or  only  half -revealed,  in  the 
heart  of  the  belief  itself. 

The  ideals  which  our  imaginations  and  intel- 
lects frame  so  joyously  in  answer  to  our  senti- 
ments, however  often  they  seem  deferred  or 
disappointed  by  the  corresponding  realities, 
are  themselves  persistent  facts.  This  is  espe- 
cially true  of  the  facts  of  art,  of  morality,  and  of 
religion.  We  may  say  in  answer  to  the  ques- 
tion, What  should  I  believe?  as  we  have  else- 
where said  in  answer  to  the  question,  What 
ought  I  to  do?  "Although  it  is  a  question  which 
does  not  emerge  in  consciousness,  is  no  ques- 
tion at  all,  until  we  recognize  the  presence  of 
the  ideal,  it  is  not  a  question  that  deals  with 
thoughts  merely  or  that  cuts  itself  loose  from 
a  firm  footing  in  the  real  and  hard  facts  of 
human  life."  Those  feelings  and  judgments 

[120] 


RIGHTS  AND  OBLIGATIONS 

which  attach  themselves  to  human  ideals  have 
a  right  to  exercise  a  potent  influence  upon 
human  beliefs  and  faiths.  In  fact,  they  do  have 
a  mighty  influence;  it  is  reasonable  that  they 
should  have  such  an  influence.  This  is  true, 
even  of  the  conceptions  of  the  world  which  are 
held  as  the  firm  beliefs  of  the  positive  sciences. 
For  as  the  Abbe  de  Broglie  has  truly  said :  "The 
visible  world  does  not  contain  within  itself 
either  the  origin,  or  the  end,  or  the  law  or  the 
ideal,  of  human  life." 

Once  more,  we  may  say  that  the  reasonable- 
ness of  any  particular  belief  or  faith  is  also  to 
be  tested  by  the  service  it  actually  renders  to 
the  needs  of  life.  Here  is  the  central  truth  of 
Pragmatism,  with  its  test  of  truth  by  its  success 
in  doing  "work."  But  in  this  tenet  as  applied 
to  our  beliefs  and  faiths,  as  when  applied  to 
our  "knowledge-judgments,"  we  must  recog- 
nize the  fundamental  fact  that  one  of  the  most 
important  of  all  these  needs  is  the  satisfaction 
which  the  mind  can  attain  only  through  con- 
fidence in  its  possession  of  the  truth. 

Summing  up  our  conclusions  as  to  the  Rights 
and  Obligations  of  Belief  in  the  form  of  their 
most  obvious  claims  to  the  title  of  "reasonable- 
ness," we  may  say  that  the  chief  tests  are  the 

[121] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

following:  The  correspondence  of  belief  to  the 
knowledge  derived  from  our  own  experience  or 
the  experience  of  others,  —  especially  of  "the 
men  who  know";  the  satisfaction  afforded  to  the 
sentiments  and  value- judgments  which  attach 
themselves  to  the  ideals  of  art,  morality  and 
religion;  and  the  assistance  rendered  to  us 
in  the  conduct  of  the  practical  life.  In  a  word, 
the  relation  which  any  particular  belief  sus- 
tains to  the  supreme  interests  and  highest 
values  of  personal  life,  must  settle,  as  far  as 
such  a  problem  can  be  settled,  the  question, 
What  should  I  believe? 

Be  "reasonable"  in  your  beliefs  does  not 
mean,  then,  "Prove  them  all  by  argument  in 
the  steps  of  which  no  possible  flaw  can  be  dis- 
cerned," except,  possibly  (and  very  likely)  that 
the  argument  has  neglected  the  very  most  im- 
portant facts  from  which  it  starts  —  the  facts 
of  belief  themselves;  but  it  means  the  rather, 
"Choose  your  beliefs,  according  to  their 
harmonies  with  your  total  experience  and 
with  the  experiences  of  the  wise  of  the  race; 
and  according  to  the  reasonable  satisfaction 
they  afford  to  your  own  best  Self  and  to  the 
needs  for  the  safe-conducting  of  the  practical 
life." 


RIGHTS  AND   OBLIGATIONS 

Each  one  of  these  three  supreme  groups  of 
the  tests  by  which  to  determine  the  rights  and 
the  obligations  of  one's  beliefs  and  faiths,  seems, 
however,  to  require  some  further  amplification 
and  defence. 


[123] 


CHAPTER  V 

COMFORTS  AND  REWARDS  OF 
RIGHT  BELIEF 

rHOSE  attitudes  of  mind,  whether 
toward  things,  truths,  or  persons, 
which  we  ordinarily  describe  by  such 
words  as  "confidence,"  "reliance,"  "belief," 
or  "faith,"  are  in  general  characterized  by  a 
peculiar  feeling  of  comfort.  This  feeling  is 
closely  allied  to  that  which  accompanies  a 
state  of  bodily  repose.  Indeed,  we  use  the 
same  words  to  describe  the  two;  and,  in  experi- 
ence, they  are  not  infrequently  so  blended  as 
to  be  almost  indistinguishably  one.  We  covet 
mental  reliance  on  the  chair  or  bed  in  which 
we  repose;  somewhat  as  we  repose  our  faith  in 
the  friend  of  whom  we  know  that  he  will  stand 
back  of  us,  or  support  us,  in  some  business  or 
other  enterprise.  One  must  have  confidence 
in  one's  tools,  if  one  is  to  work  with  them  in 
quiet  assurance  of  success;  just  as  one  must 
put  a  large  faith  in  one's  fellows,  if  one  is  to 
live  in  comfortable  social  relations  with  them. 
[124] 


COMFORTS,  REWARDS,  OF  BELIEF 

In  scientific  discovery,  and  even  more  in  the 
teaching  of  science,  and  applying  its  results  to 
ends  of  practical  good,  belief  in  its  experimental 
means  of  testing  the  truth,  and  a  generous  faith 
in  its  accepted  principles,  are  indispensable. 
Above  all,  must  one  rely  on  the  deliverances 
of  moral  consciousness,  if  one  is  to  have  any  sort 
of  satisfaction  in  one's  choices  or  courses  of  con- 
duct; while,  in  religion,  faith  is  so  essential  to 
its  comforts  and  rewards  as  to  be  considered 
the  central  factor  in  its  very  conception.  Faith 
is  religion,  subjectively  considered. 

The  very  comfortable  nature  of  all  these 
attitudes  of  mind  and  body  is  further  indicated 
by  the  prepositions  with  which  the  words  ex- 
pressive of  the  attitudes  themselves  have  come 
to  be  connected.  We  rely  "on"  the  thing  or 
person,  "toward"  which,  or  whom,  this  outlook 
of  right  belief  is  directed.  We  have  confidence 
"in"  the  word  of  promise  uttered  by  our 
friend;  as  we  believe  "in"  the  enterprise  which 
he  recommends  to  us,  —  or,  more  especially, 
the  good  cause  which  has  enlisted  the  enthusi- 
astic efforts  of  both  of  us  for  its  speedier  realiza- 
tion. The  army  that  does  not  trust  its  leaders 
is  not  at  ease  when  resting  in  camp;  much  less 
can  it  enter  battle  with  the  comforting  feeling 

[125] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

that  it  is  going  to  be  led  to  victory.  The  New 
Testament  employs  all  three  of  the  prepositions 
which  we  have  just  been  using  to  describe  the 
Christian's  attitude  of  mind  toward  Christ. 
This  attitude  is  faith  "toward"  (els)  him; 
it  is  faith  "upon"  (em)  him;  it  is  faith  "in" 
(e>)  him.  It  is  comforting  feeling  of  trust, 
going  out  toward  its  object,  reposing  upon  its 
object,  and  finding  in  this  object  an  inspiring 
and  vitalizing  atmosphere. 

But  the  seductions  and  dangers  of  this  mental 
attitude  of  comfortable  repose  are  also  notably 
comparable  to  those  which  invest  the  corre- 
sponding physical  condition.  The  comforts  of 
repose,  whether  of  body  or  mind,  are  quite  too 
apt  to  make  difficult  the  exchange  for  them  of 
the  painstaking  activities  which  they  should 
excite  and  inspire.  For  doubt,  distrust,  and 
weakness  of  belief,  are  essentially  uncomfort- 
able states,  whether  the  object  to  which  these 
states  have  reference  be  physical  or  mental. 
They  have  the  ferment  of  restlessness,  such  as 
belongs  to  all  unsupported  physical  and  psy- 
chical conditions.  Hence  there  occurs  a  lack  of 
balance,  or  even  a  condition  of  contrast  and  war- 
fare between  the  comforts  of  wrong  belief  and 
the  rewards  of  right  belief.  The  belief  of  the 

[126] 


COMFORTS,  REWARDS,  OF  BELIEF 

man  of  science  in  some  particular  hypothesis, 
or  means  of  attaining  a  valuable  practical  result, 
may  be  a  hindrance  to  its  own  realization  (or 
rectification)  if  it  does  not  keep  him  stimulated 
in  the  effort  to  work  diligently  at  the  testing  of 
the  belief.  The  more  we  trust  things  and  per- 
sons that  are  not  worthy  of  trust,  the  worse  is 
our  awakening  from  the  comfortable  slumber 
with  its  alluring  dreams,  when  the  inevitable 
hour  of  awakening  has  actually  come.  In 
morals,  it  is  quite  regularly  more  profitable  to 
inquire  often  into  the  grounds  of  one's  opinions 
on  matters  of  right  and  wrong,  than  to  be  always 
reposing  undisturbed  in  the  pleasing  assurances 
of  an  invulnerable  self -righteousness.  In  re- 
ligion, it  is  the  unavoidable  experience  of  the 
inquiring  mind,  that  its  prayer  must  be:  "Lord! 
I  do  believe"  (some  things,  with  some  degree 
of  assent):  "help  thou  my  unbelief"  (about 
other  things,  and  to  a  fuller  and  more  intelli- 
gent assent).  And  when  the  faith  comes  in 
answer  to  the  prayer  of  painful  doubt  or  mo- 
mentary unbelief,  it  must  be  in  the  form  of  a 
faith  that  inspires  and  proves  itself  in  works. 

But  there  is  nothing  supremely  strange,  or 
even  foreign  to  all  our  other  experiences,  in 
this  high  price  at  which  are  sold  to  men  the 

[127] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

comforts  and  the  rewards  of  right  belief.  It  is 
the  case  of  "spur  and  bridle,"  by  intermitting 
or  concurring  use  of  which  the  spirit  of  man  is 
driven  and  guided,  if  he  is  to  realize  the  destiny 
of  being  a  person  in  any  commendable  degree. 
On  the  one  hand,  we  have  to  appreciate  the 
worth  of  the  allurements  of  the  beliefs,  that  at 
the  best  are  partially  wrong;  on  the  other  hand, 
we  have  to  confess  the  need  of  the  birth-pains 
of  doubt,  and  of  the  trials  of  faith,  until  we  come 
somehow  to  distinguish  what  is  right  belief. 
Whichever  of  the  two  experiences  outweighs 
the  other  —  the  discomforts  of  doubt  and  un- 
certainty by  the  way,  and  of  disappointment  at 
the  end,  or  the  comforts  of  the  partially  right 
belief  as  it  grows  in  the  process  of  testing,  to 
the  fruition  of  a  mature  and  reasonable  faith  — 
if  our  measure  be  one  of  quantity  alone,  we  can- 
not deny  that  the  quality  of  the  product  which 
can  be  attained  only  in  this  way,  the  personal 
life  conducted  under  the  guidance  of  the  will 
that  grasps  and  holds  on  to  the  more  reasonable 
of  the  greater  faiths,  renders  the  process  well 
worth  all  that  it  costs.  Faiths  must  be  refined 
by  fire,  before  they  are  made  enduring  substance 
of  the  Self. 

We  are  not,  however,  sacrificing  regard  for 

[1281 


COMFORTS,  REWARDS,  OF  BELIEF 

the  sacredness  of  truth  to  cravings  for  tem- 
porary feelings  of  a  comfortable  sort,  when  we 
justify  Nature  (or  Providence)  in  using  so  large 
a  measure  of  delusion  in  the  cultivation  of 
human  beliefs  and  faiths.  For  there  are  two 
most  important  and  fundamental  considera- 
tions which  should  determine  our  opinions  and 
our  practice  at  this  point.  One  of  these  con- 
siderations is  this:  The  absolute  need  of  faith 
in  something  that  reaches  beyond  the  present 
experience,  and  indeed,  is  not  quite  warranted 
by  it,  if  there  is  to  be  any  worthy  development 
of  personal  life.  Belief  must  have  a  certain 
audacity  to  accomplish  such  a  development. 
The  other  is  the  fact,  that  all  these  greater 
beliefs  have  the  truths  which  correspond  to 
them  only  gradually  and  partially  revealed. 
This  partial  and  temporary  character  of  the 
satisfactions  of  belief  belongs  to  the  very  na- 
ture of  belief.  If  we  demanded  for  the  hy- 
potheses, or  beliefs,  of  the  positive  sciences,  all 
absence  of  the  partially  true,  of  the  defective, 
of  that  which  so  often  in  the  end  is  supplanted 
by  something  far  better  than  the  form  earlier 
taken  by  the  belief,  we  should  never  have  any 
science  at  all.  If  we  set  aside,  in  the  efforts 
to  perfect  human  society,  all  the  beliefs  of  men 

[129] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

in  one  another,  and  in  their  varying  schemes  of 
organization,  and  in  the  formulas  and  rules  and 
practices  adopted  for  the  carry-out  of  these 
schemes,  because  they  so  universally  turn  out 
largely  deceptive  and  disappointing,  society  of 
any  sort  would  be  impossible  of  development. 

This  necessity  for  partially  right  belief,  with 
all  its  illusory  character,  is  absolute  in  morals 
and  religion.  As  said  Schiller:  "Man  is  robbed 
of  all  worth,  when  he  no  longer  believes  in  the 
three  words"  (God,  freedom,  and  immortality). 
As  a  more  recent  writer  has  declared:  "Relig- 
ious faith  is  a  postulate  of  the  practical  reason. 
Man  must  believe,  in  order  to  retain  his  worth 
as  man  —  a  worth  which  no  noble-spirited  man 
ought  to  renounce."  But  this  necessity  does 
not  guarantee  every  stage  and  item  of  even 
the  wisest  mortal's  most  confident  faith.  For, 
as  Professor  Royce  has  finely  said:  "Applied 
philosophy  is  like  practical  religion.  It  illu- 
mines life,  but  it  gives  no  power  to  use  the  arts 
of  the  medicine-man.  .  .  .  Religious  faith  in- 
volves no  direct  access  to  the  counsels  of  God; 
but  it  inspires  the  believer  with  the  assurance 
that  all  things  work  together  for  good,  and 
endows  him  with  readiness  to  serve  in  his  sta- 
tion the  God  who  is  All  in  all."  In  his  "Ora- 

[130] 


COMFORTS,  REWARDS,  OF  BELIEF 

tion  on  Wieland,"  Goethe  praises  the  power  to 
counteract  the  pessimism  arising  from  the  facts 
respecting  the  condition  of  the  State,  of  morals 
and  of  religion,  by  cheerfulness  born  of  faith, 
which  was  possessed  in  so  high  a  degree  by  Lord 
Shaftesbury  as  well  as  by  Wieland.  In  all  such 
matters,  faith  must  allure  the  mind  to  imagine 
conditions  and  results  that  are  contradicted 
by  many  of  the  facts  of  present  experience. 

To  enforce  the  comforts  and  rewards  of  right 
belief  we  might  turn  again,  as  so  often,  to  the 
master  among  the  ancients  of  the  Stoical  phi- 
losophy as  applied  to  the  life  of  conduct.  We 
should  find  the  thought  at  the  centre  of  all  his 
reflective  thinking.  According  to  Epictetus, 
the  attitude  of  the  human  will  toward  the  Di- 
vine Will,  which  is  characterized  by  perfect 
confidence,  is  the  only  one  that  can  support  a 
reasonable,  a  comfortable  and  successful  life. 
Perfect  faith  in  God  is  the  indispensable  condi- 
tion of  such  a  life.  But  this  attitude  must  be 
maintained  in  spite  of  the  trials  of  faith,  and 
indeed,  in  the  scorn  of  them.  The  contradic- 
tions and  disappointments  of  such  a  faith  belong 
to  the  world  of  the  illusory  and  the  seeming; 
the  faith  itself  is  the  reality  and  the  guaranty 
of  all  other  reality.  To  this  belief  the  conduct 

[1311 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

of  the  mind  should  be  implicity  entrusted;  just 
as  one  entrusts  one's  body  to  the  physician,  or 
one's  property  interests  to  one's  lawyer.  For 
without  it  "the  soul  is  like  a  vase  filled  with 
water;  while  the  semblances  of  things  fall  like 
rays  upon  its  surface.  If  the  water  is  moved, 
the  ray  will  seem  to  be  moved  likewise,  though 
it  is  in  reality  without  motion."  But  such  a 
faithful  will  must  govern  conduct;  for,  "It  is 
scandalous  that  he  who  sweetens  his  drink  by 
the  gift  of  the  bees,  should  by  vice  embitter 
reason,  the  gift  of  the  gods." 

It  is,  of  course,  in  the  realms  of  morals  and 
religion  that  the  comforts  and  rewards  of  right 
belief  are,  as  a  rule,  most  eagerly  sought  and 
most  conspicuously  present  or  absent.  But 
their  presence  and  influence  as  connected  with 
the  beliefs  that  enter  so  largely  into  the  nature 
and  progress  of  scientific  systems  and  of  social 
and  political  institutions  are  just  as  truly  be- 
yond all  doubt.  Something  of  a  more  special 
sort  in  describing  and  defining  the  nature  and 
limitations  of  these  applications  of  the  greater 
beliefs,  during  the  unceasing  effort  of  the  indi- 
vidual and  of  the  race  to  render  them  increas- 
ingly reasonable,  is  demanded  by  the  most  brief 
answer  to  the  question,  What  should  I  believe? 

[1321 


COMFORTS,  REWARDS,  OF  BELIEF 

In  general,  then,  it  seems  that  the  utility 
and  value  of  human  beliefs  and  faiths  consist 
largely  in  their  exploratory,  tentative,  and  ex- 
perimental character.  For  man  does  not  learn 
to  know,  or  conquer  for  his  service,  the  world  of 
things,  by  strictly  logical  inferences  derived  from 
a  background  or  a  foundation  of  indubitable 
a  priori  principles.  He  learns  what  things 
are  by  a  series  of  approaches,  in  which  the 
direction  and  the  degrees  of  his  belief  in  them 
come  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  truth  of  reality. 
He  guesses  at  what  they  are,  and  what  they  will 
probably  do  to  him  and  for  him,  and  puts  more 
or  less  of  confidence  in  the  accuracy  of  his 
guesses.  He,  thereupon,  pins  a  kind  of  faith  to 
these  guesses.  He  extends  and  corrects  the 
guesses,  the  crude,  preliminary  beliefs,  by  put- 
ting them  to  the  test  of  experience.  By  using 
the  suggestions  which  this  testing  affords  (in 
which  failure  is  often  quite  as  helpful  as  success) 
he  gets  somewhat  nearer  to  the  goal  of  a  per- 
fectly valid  confidence,  a  belief  that  is  thor- 
oughly right,  although  it  may  never  attain  the 
certainty  ascribed  to  the  conclusion  of  a  per- 
fectly constructed  syllogism.  It  is,  indeed,  not 
on  the  basis  of  strictly  logical  inference  that  the 
temple  of  knowledge  is  chiefly  erected,  even  in 

[133] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

the  physical  sciences.  The  steps  of  these 
sciences  are,  the  rather,  like  the  rungs  of  a 
ladder  of  suggestions  as  to  the  truths  of  fact 
and  truths  of  principle,  by  trusting  which  a 
climb  is  made  toward  the  heavens  of  truth  in 
its  perfection  and  purity;  and  the  foot  of  the 
ladder  is  itself  placed  on  ground  shifting  at 
times  between  doubt  and  faith,  but  on  the 
whole  commending  itself  more  and  more  to  the 
confidence  of  the  mind  that  has  staked  all  on 
the  success  of  its  climbing. 

In  the  last  analysis,  therefore,  to  plead  the 
rewards  of  the  will  to  believe,  what  to  the  rea- 
son it  seems  at  the  time  is  nearest  that  which 
it  is  right  to  believe,  is  a  superfluous  task. 
Such  a  plea  is  really  equivalent  to  saying  that, 
since  we  must  discover  the  nature  of  things  by 
progress  in  the  skill  of  reckoning  probabilities, 
and  must  govern  our  intercourse  with  things 
and  uses  of  things  by  the  same  kind  of  skill, 
it  is  best  for  us  to  do  so.  It  is  always  "best" 
to  do  what  one  positively  "must"  do.  And 
whether  we  like  it  or  not,  we  are  doomed 
(or  privileged?)  to  live  largely  by  right  be- 
lief in  all  our  dealings  —  whether  for  pur- 
poses of  scientific  progress  or  of  practical 
benefit  —  with  the  physical  environment  from 

[134] 


COMFORTS,  REWARDS,  OF  BELIEF 

which,  except  by  death,  there  is  no  possible 
escape. 

The  indispensable  necessity  and  high  value 
of  human  beliefs  and  faiths  in  their  office  as 
"working  hypotheses,"  is  yet  more  evident  in 
matters  political  and  social;  but  above  all, 
in  matters  moral  and  religious.  All  political 
and  social  progress  is  made  only  by  a  series  of 
attempts,  in  which  men  for  the  time  believe  as 
the  best  thing  possible  for  the  time,  or  to  which 
they  attach  their  faith  in  a  passionate  and 
devoted  way,  as  though  the  form  attempted 
were  the  only  and  veritable  realization  of  the 
coveted  ideal.  How  fragmentary  and  faulty 
these  beliefs  are,  and  how  surely  the  most  care- 
fully constructed  of  them  —  the  political  and 
social  beliefs  of  the  wisest  minds  and  the  most 
fortunate  times  —  are  doomed  to  partial  fail- 
ure, needs  no  specially  selected  illustrations  to 
prove  it  true.  All  social  and  political  schemes 
and  actual  constitutions  prove  the  fact,  and  the 
necessity  of  the  fact,  that  progress  can  be  gained 
only  by  putting  them  to  the  test,  to  determine 
their  claims  to  approach  the  right  beliefs  and 
faiths.  But  choices  of  this  sort,  made  by  the 
"will  to  believe,"  are  an  indispensable  expression 
of  the  "will  to  live"  in  association  with  one's 

[135] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

kind.  If  the  attempts  at  right  belief  carried 
with  them  no  conviction,  they  could  do  no 
work.  If  they  were  not  put  to  the  test,  to  the 
trial  of  their  faith,  there  could  be  no  develop- 
ment. For  men  do  not  live  together,  with 
common  success  and  in  righteousness  and  har- 
mony, because  they  have  taken  lessons  from 
experts  in  a  deductive  science  of  sociology, 
"societology,"  or  political  economy.  They 
find  out  the  way  to  live  with  a  measurable 
success  in  the  attainment  of  the  rewards  of 
right  living,  in  community  relations,  by  an 
unending  series  of  "trying  it  on."  The  only 
way,  for  example,  that  the  vagaries  and 
inconsistencies  and  lurking  perils  of  the 
communistic  schemes  which  are  arousing 
the  enthusiastic  confidences  of  so  large  a 
portion  of  the  race,  and  which  are  calling 
forth  so  much  of  noble,  if  half-blind,  faith, 
can  be  made  to  give  way  to  more  of  right 
belief,  will  doubtless  be  only  through  a  pro- 
cess of  "trying  the  schemes  out."  The  trial 
will  inevitably  be  fraught  with  much  disap- 
pointment and  suffering. 

Above  all,  however,  if  a  man  is  going  to  live 
the  life  of  morality  and  religion,  must  he  cling, 
often  times  almost  desperately  and  in  spite  of 

[136] 


COMFORTS,  REWARDS,  OF  BELIEF 

many  indubitable  facts,  to  certain  beliefs  which 
have  their  present  rewards  largely  in  what  they 
do  to  answer  the  demand  for  satisfaction  of  the 
higher  sentiments  and  profounder  needs  of  the 
personal  life.  To  these  faiths,  there  come 
many  severe  trials  when  they  are  tested  by  the 
actual  happenings  of  the  daily  experiences  of 
the  individual,  or  the  wider  but  more  superficial 
survey  of  the  courses  of  human  history.  The 
man  who  is  going  to  lead  the  life  made  reason- 
able by  the  faiths  of  morality,  needs  to  hold 
firm  the  conviction  that  wrong-doing,  whether 
by  himself  or  others  is  due  to  be  thwarted  and 
punished;  that  to  those  who  do  their  duty 
according  to  their  light  and  opportunities, 
all  will  essentially  and  ultimately  be  well. 
Especially  does  he  crave  that  most  comfort- 
ing and  glorious  of  all  moral  beliefs,  —  the  faith 
in  the  ultimate  triumph  of  righteousness,  and 
in  the  blessedness  which  is  the  fit  companion  of 
righteousness.  But  he  may  be  unable  to  de- 
rive this  faith,  with  the  rigidity  of  the  Kantian 
dialectic,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  Practical 
Reason.  And  he  will  quite  surely  be  called  to 
face  an  immense  number  of  experiences  in 
which  all  these  comforting  beliefs  seem  to  be 
contradicted  by  the  facts. 

[137] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

So,  too,  for  the  man  who  would  lead  the  life 
demanded  by  the  faiths  of  religion,  there  is 
constantly  sore  need  of  the  comfort  and  support 
which  these  faiths  furnish  in  sufficient  measure, 
and  in  a  reasonable  manner,  only  when  they 
attach  themselves  to  ideals  that  are  high  up 
and  far  away.  But  only  the  act  of  believing 
itself  can  draw  the  ideals  down  and  make  them 
nestle  in  the  heart  to  keep  it  warm  and  make  it 
strong.  Such  is  the  belief  in  the  sanity  and 
friendliness  of  the  Universe,  —  otherwise  stated, 
in  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God.  This  faith 
is  closely  allied  to  that  in  the  moral  issues  of 
life,  as  lived  under  the  dominance  of  this  Uni- 
verse. But  how  awfully  do  the  facts  of  life 
shock  this  faith!  How  ruthlessly  do  so  many 
of  our  experiences  flaunt  themselves  in  its  face! 
"The  mills  of  the  gods  grind  slowly,"  said  that 
ancient  people  who,  with  the  exception  of  the 
ancient  Hebrews,  of  all  peoples,  ancient  or 
modern,  left  on  record  the  choicest  fruits  of 
profound  reflection  on  moral  issues.  But  only 
faith  in  a  God,  who  is  perfect  Ethical  Spirit, 
supports  the  practical  conviction  that  the  mills 
will  grind  on  until  they  grind  "exceeding 
small."  That  they  will,  however,  is  not  the 
cherished  conviction  of  the  pious  alone,  whose 

[138] 


COMFORTS,  REWARDS,  OF  BELIEF 

lives  bear  witness  to  the  sincerity  and  depth 
of  their  faith;  it  is  also  the  suspicion  of  many 
another  who  has  followed  "variant  by-paths" 
with  an  "uncertain  heart,"  but  whose  poetical 
insight  or  quiet  reflective  thinking  has  com- 
pelled him  at  times  to  take  refuge  in  the  com- 
forts of  this  faith.  So  deeply  planted  is  this 
conviction  in  the  very  substance  of  the  Self. 

If  the  Tightness  of  our  moral  and  religious 
beliefs  must  be  held  in  hypothetical  form  at 
first,  and  then  purified  and  made  more  reason- 
able by  long  and  painful  processes  of  testing; 
in  what  respect,  pray !  do  they  essentially  differ 
from  all  the  most  important  and  reasonable  of 
our  greater  beliefs?  We  trust  them;  we  con- 
duct our  lives  in  reliance  on  their  truth.  But 
we  admit  that  they  must  stand  the  testing  of 
doubt,  the  discipline  of  experience,  in  order  to 
merit  and  receive  their  highest,  permanent 
rewards.  What  would  you?  This  is  only  to 
say  that  right  belief,  like  all  other  good  things, 
must  be  proved  right  by  a  series  of  experi- 
ments. We  may  even  say,  without  irrationality 
or  caprice,  that  it  is  made  right  only  by  ap- 
proaches along  the  thorny  path  of  painful  ex- 
periences. Such  an  admission,  however,  is  no 
valid  reason  for  denying  oneself  its  comforts  and 

[139] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

its  rewards  by  the  way.  This  is  not  to  say  that 
one  should  shape  one's  beliefs  and  faiths,  in 
things  scientific,  social,  moral  or  religious, 
solely  by  the  comfort  one  can  get  out  of  them; 
but  that  the  comfort  which  right  beliefs  do  ac- 
tually afford  to  the  soul  in  its  approaches  to 
them  by  the  actual  process  of  "trying  them 
on,"  is  an  item  of  no  small  moment  in  their 
favor,  in  spite  of  the  pains  of  the  trial,  and  the 
disappointments,  that  are  unavoidable  in  this 
process. 

Let  it  not  seem  invidious  if  we  turn  our  argu- 
ment around  a  little  way,  in  order  to  glance  an 
instant  at  the  dark  side  of  life,  when  in  its 
shadows  through  loss  of  faith  in  the  greater 
truths  of  morality  and  religion.  We  need  not 
mention  names,  as  was  done  not  long  ago  in  an 
article  giving  a  critical  estimate  of  the  literary 
work  of  a  group  of  English  writers  whose  lives 
had  been  a  sad  commentary  on  their  seeming 
complete  failure  in  the  will  to  believe  the 
greater  truths  essential  to  the  unfolding  of 
the  higher  personal  life.  Of  these,  some  had 
"mingled  their  religion  with  the  fumes  of  alcohol 
and  opium";  some  had  died  victims  of  absinthe 
and  some  of  suicide.  "And,  above  all,  there 
is  the  hideous  tragedy  in  Reading  Jail."  But 
'  [  140  ] 


COMFORTS,  REWARDS,  OF  BELIEF 

one  of  the  most  gifted  puts  his  final  estimate 
of  the  values  of  the  faith  he  had  rejected,  into 
verses  celebrating  the  choice  of  the  nuns  who, 
with  its  comforts  and  supports,  had  devoted 
themselves  to  the  active  service  of  humanity. 

"And  there  they  rest;  they  have  serene  insight 
Of  the  illumining  dawn  to  be. 


Surely  their  choice  of  vigil  is  the  best? 
Yea!  for  our  roses  fade,  the  world  is  wild; 
But  there,  beside  the  altar,  there  is  rest." 

A  curious  and  interesting  tribute  this  to  the 
comfortable  repose  of  soul  afforded  by  the  faiths 
of  morality  and  religion! 


141] 


CHAPTER  VI 

BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

THAT  belief  and  knowledge  are  inex- 
tricably mingled  and  dependently  re- 
lated in  all  mental  development,  both 
that  of  the  individual  and  that  of  the  race, 
is  a  thesis  which  by  this  time  should  need  no 
further  evidence  advanced  in  its  support.  The 
fact  has  been  made  abundantly  clear  by  our 
attempts  to  answer,  if  only  in  a  partial 
way,  the  two  practically  important  questions: 
"What  can  I  Know?"  and,  "What  should  I 
Believe?"  Without  belief,  no  knowledge  is 
possible;  without  growth  in  knowledge,  none 
of  our  beliefs,  not  even  the  most  imperative 
and  practically  most  important,  can  stand  the 
test  of  the  experience  which  requires  them  to 
vindicate  their  claims  to  acceptance  by  con- 
tinual approaches  toward  a  higher  standard  of 
reasonableness. 

A  further  argument  in  the  direction  of  the 
same  conclusion  has  been  conducted  in  several 

[1421 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

of  the  previous  chapters  of  this  treatise  on  the 
nature,  rights  and  obligations  of  human  beliefs 
and  faiths.  Some  of  these  beliefs  are  essential 
elements  in  all  the  workings  of  the  human  mind. 
They  must  be  held,  in  order  to  perceive  and 
think  at  all;  whether  the  object  of  perception 
or  of  thought  be  something,  or  oneself,  or  some 
other  person;  and  whether  they  be  held  con- 
sciously and  intelligently,  or  lay  a  sort  of  slav- 
ish grip  upon  an  intellect  that  is  blind  to  their 
existence.  Such  beliefs  we  have  referred  to, 
though  only  briefly  and  without  much  attempt 
at  their  psychological  analysis  or  even  their 
enumeration,  under  the  head  of  so-called  neces- 
sary "intellectual  beliefs,"  "primary  intui- 
tions," "first  principles  of  the  intellect,"  or 
similar  terms.  Other  beliefs  —  especially  those 
of  the  social,  moral,  or  religious  order,  seem  to 
present  themselves  in  the  guise  of  suppliants, 
rather  than  dictators  before  the  will  to  believe. 
They  solicit  more  or  less  conscious  and  defini- 
tive choices,  with  the  apparent  end  in  view  of 
being  the  individual's  preferred  forms  of  faith, 
needed  for  the  right  conduct  of  life.  But 
they,  too,  in  some  sort,  belong  to  the  very  sub- 
stance of  the  Self;  to  the  constitution  and  the 
indispensable  conditions  of  the  development 

[143] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

of  the  personal  life.  For  knowledge,  even  in  its 
most  scientific  form,  cannot  free  itself  from  the 
influences  that  have  important  and  intimate 
connections  with  the  faiths  which  underlie  and 
control  the  social,  moral  and  religious  life  of 
man.  So  much  a  unity,  in  spite  of,  or  rather 
because  of,  the  great  diversity  of  its  capacities 
and  needs,  is  the  human  soul.  It  is  now  from 
this  more  lofty  —  perhaps  we  may  not  im- 
properly call  it  "airy"  —  point  of  view,  that 
we  propose  to  survey  certain  scientific  beliefs. 

In  conducting  the  survey  just  proposed,  we 
are  at  once  impressed  with  the  truth  that  all 
the  most  precise  knowledge  of  the  sciences  has 
developed  from  a  soil  rich  in  superstitions  and 
unproved  or  disproved  beliefs.  The  explana- 
tion of  this  historical  fact  is  partly  due  to  the 
psychological  fact,  that  intellectual  curiosity, 
or  natural  wonder,  is  the  common  root  of  both. 
It  has  been  said  that  "Wonder  is  faith's  dearest 
child"  (Das  W under  ist  des  Glaubens  liebstes 
Kind) .  The  opposite  is  the  rather  true.  Belief 
is  the  child  of  wonder,  or  intellectual  curiosity. 
But  so  is  knowledge,  as  well.  For  the  emotional 
and  practical  aspect  of  the  mind  toward  the 
operations  and  uses  of  things  satisfies  itself  at 
first  by  some  form  of  belief.  This  is  the  earliest 

[144] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

stage  of  half-blind  progress  toward  the  begin- 
nings of  science.  Man  tries  at  first  to  allay 
the  fears  and  strengthen  the  hopes,  which  arise 
from  his  superstitious  attitude  toward  phy- 
sical things  and  natural  forces,  by  the  aid  of 
incantations  and  charms.  He  has  full  confi- 
dence in  the  reality  of  the  beings  which  he 
employs  for  such  purposes;  because  the  very 
constitution  of  his  mind  compels  him  to  explain 
the  facts  made  known  through  the  senses  by 
invisible  agencies,  the  existence  of  which  he 
must  always  take  largely  on  a  species  of  intel- 
lectual belief.  He  will  bewitch  nature;  for  is 
not  nature  herself  a  very  shrewd  and  cunning 
old  witch?  In  all  this,  practical  interests  of 
great  moment  are  served  in  important  ways 
by  the  imagination  and  the  intellect  co-operat- 
ing to  construct  suitable  objects  of  belief.  As 
says  Professor  Jastrow,  in  his  "Religion  of 
Babylonia  and  Assyria"  (p.  356):  "The  chief 
motive  in  the  development  of  astronomy  in  the 
Euphrates  Valley  was  the  belief  that  the  move- 
ments of  the  heavenly  bodies  portended  some- 
thing that  was  important  for  men  to  know." 
Of  medicine  also  the  same  authority  says: 
"There  is  indeed  no  branch  of  human  knowl- 
edge which  so  persistently  retains  its  connec- 

[145] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

tion  with  religious  beliefs  among  all  peoples  of 
antiquity  as  the  one  which  today  is  regarded  as 
resting  upon  a  materialistic  basis." 

But  the  process  is  not  different  when  man 
slowly  or,  in  certain  instances  more  promptly, 
passes  from  what  science  is  pleased  to  call 
superstition  to  those  beliefs  which  science 
adopts  for  its  own  name's  sake.  The  same 
mind,  not  finding  either  emotional  or  practical 
satisfactions  in  the  superstitious  interpretation 
of  natural  phenomena,  as  they  appear  to  sense, 
or  in  the  manipulation  of  its  mysteries  by 
augury  and  incantation,  devises  other  explana- 
tions of  the  facts  of  sensuous  knowledge.  These, 
too,  involve  belief  in  forces  and  beings  of  which 
the  senses  can,  still  as  before,  take  no  direct 
account.  With  a  chastened  and  more  rational 
faith  in  nature  as  true  to  herself  in  each  detail 
of  fact,  according  to  the  causal  principle  and 
in  conformity  to  law,  modern  experimental 
science  is  made  possible;  and  it  sets  out  on  a 
career  of  rapid  and  vigorous  growth.  But 
while  it  feels  out  its  way  with  the  left  hand  of 
experiment,  it  leans  as  heavily  as  ever  with 
its  right  hand  on  the  staff  of  faith. 

We  cannot,  then,  agree  with  those  writers 
who  claim  that  superstitious  beliefs,  especially 

[146] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

of  the  religious  order,  have  always  and  every- 
where acted  as  obstacles  in  the  path  of  scien- 
tific advance.  It  is  perhaps  rather  nearer  the 
truth  to  say  of  scientific  beliefs,  as  one  author 
says  of  religious  faiths  (Castren  in  his  Finnis- 
che  Mythologie)  that  even  the  superstitious 
beliefs  of  Shamanism  have  had  a  marked  bene- 
ficial effect  upon  the  human  mind  in  freeing  it 
from  the  "shackles  of  blind  natural  forces," 
and  in  "recognizing  man's  dependence  for  his 
weal  and  woe  upon  a  purposive,  objective  Will." 
What  science  needs,  then,  is  not  to  dispense 
with  belief,  because  it  is  so  often  some  remnant 
of  an  ancient  and  mistaken  superstition;  but 
to  render  by  a  process  of  continuous  testing  its 
own  and  cognate  beliefs,  more  and  more  reason- 
able. 

It  is  not  our  purpose,  indeed,  to  indulge  our- 
selves much  in  metaphysical  discussions,  — 
so  very  practical  is  the  nature  of  our  endeavor 
to  throw  a  ray  or  two  of  light  on  the  answer  to 
the  question,  What  should  I  believe?  There 
is  one  thought,  however,  which  has  high  philo- 
sophical value  and  may  help  to  a  better  under- 
standing of  our  present  contention,  if  it  is  quoted 
at  some  length  from  another  work.  The  quo- 
tation will  recall  and  reinforce  certain  con- 

[1471 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

elusions  which  have  been  less  technically  ex- 
pressed and  illustrated  in  several  of  the  previous 
chapters  of  this  smaller  book. 

"The  distinction  ordinarily  made  between 
so-called  knowledge  and  so-called  faith  is  an 
unstable  and  vanishing  distinction.  Belief  that 
rests  upon  no  grounds  of  knowledge,  if  such 
belief  is  possible  even  for  beings  of  the  lowest 
intellectual  order,  certainly  is  to  be  rejected 
by  the  philosophy  of  religion,  as  without 
evidential  value.  On  the  other  hand,  knowl- 
edge that  does  not  involve  large  elements  of 
belief  —  and  often  elements  of  belief  which 
are  varied  in  character,  subtle  in  origin,  and 
extremely  difficult  to  estimate  with  regard  to 
their  evidential  value  —  is  not  to  be  had  by 
human  minds,  whether  in  the  form  of  religion, 
or  science,  or  philosophy.  The  reasons  why 
the  term  faith,  rather  than  the  term  knowledge, 
is  appropriate  with  reference  to  the  verities  of 
religion  in  general,  and  especially  when  treating 
of  man's  conception  of  God,  have  already  been 
made  sufficiently  clear. 

"By  combining  the  preceding  conclusions 
we  arrive  at  the  following  position:  In  matters 
theoretical  as  well  as  practical,  our  attitudes  of 
mind,  both  those  which  we  are  pleased  to  call 

[148] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

knowledge  and  those  which  are  often  depre- 
ciated as  only  faith,  can  claim  only  a  higher  or 
lower  degree  of  probability  with  regard  to  the 
real  existence  of  their  objects.  We  do  not 
increase  the  ontological  value  of  any  judgment 
by  bringing  it  under  the  category  of  knowledge; 
we  do  not  necessarily  diminish  the  ontological 
value  of  any  judgment  by  being  content  to  let 
it  rest  under  the  rubric  faith.  Some  men's 
knowledges  are  by  no  means  so  rational  as  other 
men's  beliefs.  And  much  of  the  development 
of  the  particular  sciences,  as  well  as  of  the 
evolution  of  religious  faith,  consists  in  finding 
out  that  what  was  once  thought  to  be  assuredly 
known,  is  no  longer  worthy  even  of  belief; 
but  that  many  of  the  insights  of  faith  have 
turned  out  to  be  anticipations  of  future  assured 
knowledge,  whether  of  law  or  of  fact  ("Philos- 
ophy of  Religion,"  vol.  II,  p.  22f.). 

In  dealing  with  the  beliefs  that  make 
science  possible  and  that  condition  all  its 
development,  because  they  belong  to  the  very 
nature  of  the  human  mind,  we  must  emphasize 
anew  a  certain  group  which  may  be  claimed 
to  exist  always  and  everywhere,  and  to  act 
with  ever-increasing  authority.  These  consti- 
tute the  faith  of  science  in  reason  itself;  or 

[149] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

rather  that  confidence  of  reason  in  itself  which 
underlies  and  guarantees  all  our  mental 
attitudes  toward  the  real  world  —  of  things, 
and  Self,  and  other  selves,  —  whether  we 
classify  these  attitudes  as  of  faith  or  as  of 
knowledge.  This  "Reason"  that  has  undying 
faith  in  itself  is  not  simply  the  fact  of  sense- 
perception,  with  its  powers  of  interpretation 
so  vastly  superior  to  those  of  any  of  the  animals; 
nor  is  it  simply  the  facility  and  accuracy  of  the 
intellectual  processes  which,  from  facts  of  sense, 
infer  conclusions,  derive  laws,  and  soar  aloft 
on  wings  of  speculation  to  the  thin  air  of 
universally  valid  scientific  hypotheses.  The 
Reason  of  which  we  are  speaking  is  possessed 
of  certain  powers  of  insight;  it  makes  quite 
imperative  demands  for  the  satisfaction  of 
certain  sentiments  and  ideals  of  sesthetical, 
moral  and  religious,  as  well  as  of  more  purely 
intellectual  kind.  These  demands  are  essential 
elements  of  this  Reason  itself.  And  being 
essential,  they  guarantee  a  certain  persistency 
and  authority  to  the  faiths  which  correspond 
to  the  demands.  The  completely  and  can- 
didly rational  mind,  therefore,  is  no  more 
satisfied  with  a  body  of  science  which  does  not 
satisfy  these  faiths  than  it  is  with  a  body 
[1501 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

of  science  which  does  not  explain  the  facts  of 
sensuous  experience.  Such  a  mind  demands 
that  the  World  of  non-sensuous  ideals  shall  be 
brought  into  harmony  with  the  world  of  sen- 
suous facts.  Only  when  this  harmony  is 
attained,  does  Reason  feel  satisfied  with  itself. 
That  men  still  cherish,  and  always  have 
cherished,  a  vast  number  of  mistaken  and  even 
morally  injurious  as  well  as  practically  harmful 
beliefs  and  faiths,  is  undoubtedly  true.  But 
perhaps  it  is  no  more  true  of  art,  morality,  and 
religion,  than  it  is  of  what  we  are  pleased  to 
call  the  positive  sciences.  The  proper  con- 
clusion from  these  sad  facts  is  neither  the 
discrediting  of  human  reason  altogether,  nor  of 
that  side  of  its  demands  and  endeavors  which 
has  its  grounds  in  what  we  call  our  beliefs. 
We  hear  great  laudation  of  facts  as  the  founda- 
tion of  science,  and  of  the  "practical,"  as  the 
principal,  if  not  the  only  field,  for  experiencing 
its  valuable  results.  But  the  language  of  the 
facts  which  science  —  whether  physical,  psy- 
chological, or  social  —  sets  out  to  interpret  is, 
as  Conrad  somewhere  declares,  "so  often  more, 
enigmatic  than  the  craftiest  arrangement  of 
words."  It  is  not  the  pathway  along  which  the 
beliefs  and  faiths  of  humanity  have  crept,  — 

[151] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

so  cautiously,  and  sometimes  so  sneakingly, 
—  that  is  the  only  course  of  man's  evolution 
to  be  thickly  strewn  with  cast-off  superstitions 
and  false  ideas.  The  path  of  the  positive 
sciences  is  much  decorated  in  the  same  way. 
Both  resemble  the  uphill  road  that  leads  from 
Nikko  to  Chuzenji,  with  its  sacred  mountain 
hard  to  climb.  Scarcely  a  yard  of  this  road 
that  has  not  lying  on  top,  or  covered  by  its 
dust,  one  or  two  pairs  of  sandals  dropped  from 
the  weary  feet  of  its  stream  of  pilgrims. 

And  yet  the  courage  and  assurance  of  men 
grows,  both  as  respects  the  reach  and  the 
verity  of  their  scientific  attainments,  and  also 
as  respects  the  reasonableness  and  practical 
value  of  their  beliefs  and  faiths.  In  no  previous 
age  of  the  world,  in  spite  of  its  seeming  preva- 
lence of  agnosticism  and  unbelief,  have  the 
convictions  of  men  as  to  the  trustworthiness  of 
human  reason  —  wisely  and  modestly  em- 
ployed, in  the  long  run,  and  for  the  great 
average  —  been  so  firm  and  unassailable. 

Now,  that  the  faith  of  reason  in  itself  should 
be  quite  unlimited  and  always  proved  true  by 
its  result,  in  order  to  afford  a  rational  justifica- 
tion for  this  faith,  is  plainly  absurd.  It 
amounts  to  saying  that  man,  in  order  to  be 

[152] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

rational  at  all,  must  be  like  God,  in  the  posses- 
sion of  a  reason  that  is  incapable  of  making 
mistakes.  It  is  enough  for  man  to  learn  by 
his  mistakes;  to  have  a  reason  that  can  grow 
into  an  increased  similitude  with  the  perfect 
Reason,  whose  child  he  may  have  the  reason- 
able belief  that  he  is.  But  the  notable  thing 
in  this  connection  is  the  fact  that  the  mistakes 
and  errors  do  not  dismay  or  essentially  lessen 
the  confidences  of  mankind  in  their  ability 
progressively  to  attain  valid  knowledge  and 
reasonable  belief.  In  this  confidence  the  posi- 
tive sciences  have  a  particularly  generous 
share.  They  are  fully  entitled  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  this  share.  For  without  that  confidence 
they  could  less  easily  exist  than  could  either 
art,  or  morals,  or  religion.  For  scientific 
beliefs  are  bound  to  be  more  "cold-blooded," 
so  to  say.  They  make  more  show  of  deference 
to  facts  and  of  indifference  to  sentiments  and 
to  ideals,  than  do  the  faiths  of  art,  morals,  and 
religion.  We  suspect  that  this  is  largely 
"show";  and  that  the  sciences  are  just  as 
sincerely,  if  less  obviously,  subject  to  control 
in  the  shaping  of  their  conclusions,  from  sesthet- 
ical,  and  even  quasi-moral  and  quasi-religious 
sentiments.  We  may  say,  however,  that  the 

[153] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

scientific  belief  in  human  capacity  for  attaining 
the  correct  picture  of  the  World  as  it  really  is, 
lays  a  more  conscious  emphasis  on  the  accuracy 
of  "controlled"  sense-perception,  of  mathemati- 
cal processes,  of  measurements  of  quantity,  and 
of  strictly  guarded  intellectual  processes  of 
inference. 

All  the  greater  beliefs  of  humanity  are  only 
certain  aspects  of  the  faith  of  Reason  in  itself; 
and  to  some  good  degree,  they  must  all  be 
held  by  the  rankest  agnostic  and  most  pro- 
nounced unbeliever  among  the  professional 
"scientists."  Metaphysics  or  no  metaphysics, 
as  an  affair  of  academical  culture,  or  as  a  subject 
to  which  it  is  worth  the  while  of  any  reader  of 
books  or  owner  of  a  "silent  hour,"  to  give  a 
moment's  attention;  a  certain  "metaphysical 
faith"  underlies  and  guarantees  all  the  confi- 
dence of  the  so-called  positive  sciences  in  their 
progressive  approaches  to  the  truths  of  reality. 
One  would  suppose  that  this  belief,  like  all 
other  beliefs,  might  properly  be  called  upon  to 
render  an  intelligent  account  of  its  reasonable- 
ness by  every  one  who  cherishes  it.  Why, 
indeed,  should  not  science  be  compelled  to 
vindicate  its  metaphysical  beliefs,  as  often  and 
as  loudly  as  are  morality  and  religion? 

[154] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

Now,  it  is  the  same  human  spirit  in  which 
reside  and  develop  the  greater  beliefs  of 
science,  and  the  higher  flights  of  artistic  im- 
agination, as  well  as  all  the  more  fundamental 
and  valuable  faiths  of  morality  and  religion. 
This  spirit,  although  often  distracted  and  some- 
times quite  distraught,  always  remains  essen- 
tially one  and  indivisible,  and  so  persistently 
engaged  in  attempts  to  secure  for  itself  a 
higher  degree  of  reasonableness  as  the  sole 
condition  of  a  completer  self-harmony.  From 
this  psychological  fact  it  inevitably  follows 
that,  both  in  theory  and  in  practice,  no  concep- 
tion of  the  "Substrate  of  material  things"  can 
be  formed  in  the  name  of  the  positive  sciences, 
which  does  not  include  numerous  important 
elements  from  the  sesthetical,  and  even  from  the 
moral,  side  of  human  nature.  Shall  we  find  in 
"Matter"  this  needed  all-sufficient  substrate? 
Well,  then,  we  must,  as  we  are  assured  by  one 
of  the  most  ardent  advocates  of  this  solution  of 
the  mystery  of  the  Universe,  endow  "It"  with 
"active  life"  as  its  "inseparable  attribute." 
We  must  think  of  it  as  "infinitely  delicate" 
and  capable  of  "the  highest  evolution  of 
thought."  To  this  world-builder  we  should  sing 
some  such  perpetual  song  of  praise  as  this: 

[1551 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

"Is  not  this  which  ye  call  'Matter', 
Of  the  world,  the  elemental  force; 
From  which  the  life  and  being  of  Whatever 
Strives  upward  toward  light  and  motion, 
Takes  its  source?" 

Curiously  enough  we  find  an  ancient  mystical 
writing  of  Christian  Gnosticism  asserting  of 
"all  angels,  all  archangels,  gods  and  lords,  all 
rulers,  all  the  great  invisibles,"  that  "ye  are 
all,  of  yourselves  and  in  yourselves  in  turn, 
from  one  mass,  and  one  matter  and  one  sub- 
stance. Ye  are  all  from  the  same  mixture." 
Extremes  meet;  and  this  is  not  the  only  instance 
where  we  come  upon  an  explanation  of  the 
physical  world  by  the  theory  of  a  non-spiritual 
and  impersonal  substance,  which  differs  in  its 
essential  metaphysics,  in  no  important  way, 
from  the  most  extravagant  vagaries  of  religious 
Gnosticism. 

The  same  truth  is  even  more  apparent  when 
we  analyze  the  attempts  of  science  to  construct 
a  self-explanatory  but  non-spiritual  conception 
of  the  world  of  things  and  men  under  the  term 
Nature,  or  some  similar  term.  This  Nature 
must  be  "uncreate,  perfect,  and  eternal";  it 
must  have  that  within  itself  which 

"Lives  through  all  life,  extends  through  all  extent, 
Spreads  undivided,  operates  unspent." 

[156] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

On  this  attempt,  and  on  the  objection  to 
the  spiritual  conception  of  the  world  as  a 
necessary  postulate  of  all  science,  when  it 
endeavors  to  make  its  ultimate  beliefs  reason- 
able, I  have  elsewhere  said:  "And,  indeed,  the 
preceding  centuries  of  talk  about  a  regressus  as 
the  way  in  which  the  plain  man's  consciousness, 
or  the  observations  of  science,  or  the  specula- 
tion of  philosophy,  reaches  from  the  natural 
system  of  things  to  the  spirit  that  is  in  them, 
is  in  violation  both  of  fact  and  of  sound  reason 
as  well.  There  is  not,  and  there  never  has 
been,  any  *  brute,  inanimate'  matter;  there 
is  not  now,  and  there  never  has  been,  any 
system  of  natural  objects  bare  or  devoid  of 
indwelling  spirit.  Matter,  considered  as  wholly 
devoid  of  the  characteristics  of  selfhood,  is, 
as  yet,  not  matter;  it  is  nothing,  and  can  do 
nothing;  it  is  nought;  it  is  not.  And  when 
we  supplant  this  lower  conception  by  the  more 
vital,  effective,  and  universal  term  Nature, 
we  only  acknowledge  in  a  not  less  impressive 
way  the  same  essential  truth.  This  term, 
indeed,  serves  the  great  purpose  better  than 
does  the  term  matter;  it  is  a  richer  and  more 
satisfactory  grouping  of  the  necessary  concep- 
tions, because  it  is  the  more  obvious  and  richly 

[157] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

personal  and  spiritual  term.  To  get  from 
Nature  to  Spirit,  then,  we  have  only  to  get 
more  deeply  into  Nature.  For  whenever  myth- 
ology, or  science,  or  philosophy,  makes  due 
recognition  of  the  extent  and  potency  of  this 
Absolute  Whole,  as  an  explaining  principle  for 
what  is  otherwise  particular  and  isolated, 
it  only  expresses  the  universal  insight  of  man's 
mind  into  the  real  character  of  the  world  of 
things  and  of  spirits.  Except  so  far  as  it  is 
known  as  having  additional  characteristics  of 
Spirit,  Nature  is  as  'brute  and  inanimate9  as 
was  the  old-fashioned  but  now  extinct  conception 
of  matter.  In  a  word,  Nature,  too,  is  nothing, 
and  can  do  nothing,  without  Spirit;  and  only 
in  so  far  as  it  is  essentially  spiritual,  can  it  be 
known  as  the  principle  which  sums-up  and 
embraces  all  particular  realities  and  all  actual 
events."  ("A  Theory  of  Reality,"  p.  460.) 

But  our  argument  in  behalf  of  the  influence 
of  sesthetical  and  even  of  ethical  considerations 
upon  the  greater  scientific  beliefs  does  not  need 
to  depend  solely  upon  the  psychological  princi- 
ple that  the  mind  of  man  is  a  spiritual  unity. 
The  argument  may  be  confirmed  by  an  appeal 
to  the  facts  of  history  and  to  the  present  tenor, 
as  well  as  to  the  past  trend,  of  scientific  concep- 

[1581 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

tions  and  theories.  One  of  the  most  prominent 
and  practically  useful  of  the  prevailing  scien- 
tific beliefs  is  the  faith  in  the  World  as  a  Cosmos 
or  rational  order.  This  belief  is  not,  indeed, 
primitive  and  fundamental  to  the  same  extent 
as  the  one  which  has  just  been  passed  under 
examination.  But  it  is  by  no  means  wholly 
absent  from  the  crudest  and  earliest  forms  of 
science.  Indeed,  when  the  positive  sciences 
had  not  reached  the  experimental  stage,  — 
had  not,  that  is  to  say,  as  yet  become  "positive 
sciences,"  —  the  tendency  of  reflective  minds 
was  to  construct  a  priori  far  too  fair  and  com- 
plete, and  aesthetically  pleasing,  a  picture  of 
the  physical  universe.  Inasmuch  as  there  was 
then  little  or  no  question  raised  concerning  the 
part  which  the  gods  had  in  its  building,  and  in 
the  conduct  of  its  daily  operations,  there  was 
as  little  doubt  that  ethical  considerations  had 
entered  into  the  original  construction  of  the 
universe,  and  were  still  potent  in  its  daily 
ongoings.  Plato,  who  is  in  general  so  critical 
and  so  sane,  when  discoursing  about  matters 
of  human  political  and  social  morality,  goes 
quite  wild  when  he  attempts  to  tell  us  how  the 
Divine  Being  must  have  proceeded  in  his  con- 
struction of  the  World. 

[159] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

In  spite,  however,  of  these  and  all  similar 
defects  and  exaggerations,  the  belief  in  the 
essential  orderliness  and  law-abiding  quality 
of  the  material  universe,  has  become  an  es- 
tablished thing  in  modern  science.  The  con- 
viction that  it  is  so,  has  been  fortified  by  all 
the  more  important  advances  of  scientific 
investigation.  So  true  is  this,  that  the  belief 
is  a  sort  of  "sleeping"  or  silent  hypothesis, 
lying  at  the  base  of  all  the  methods  of  experi- 
mental research.  This  is  not  at  all  the  same 
thing  as  the  vain  and  illusory  attempt  to  reduce 
all  the  sciences  to  one  all-inclusive  and  all- 
dominating  science.  There  are  many  sciences, 
each  with  its  legitimate,  although  more  or  less 
over-lapping,  sphere  of  phenomena  allotted  to 
it.  For  the  various  manifestations  of  the  one 
world  are  as  different  and  changeable  as  its 
unity  in  variety  is  comprehensive  and  unyield- 
ing. This,  on  the  other  hand,  is  far  from  giving 
any  warrant  to  the  theory  of  a  "pluralistic 
universe,"  but  just  the  contrary.  The  many 
sciences  are  more  and  more  discovering  their 
own  manifold  alliances  and  the  community  of 
co-operation  necessary  to  understand  better 
the  wonderful  variety  in  unity  of  this  One 
Universe. 

[160] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

If,  then,  we  ask  ourselves,  Out  of  what  un- 
dying roots  does  this  belief  in  the  motley  crowd 
of  things  and  array  of  conflicting  forces,  per- 
petually snarling  at  each  other,  or  entering  into 
deadly  conflict  with  one  another,  and  yet  all 
the  while  evolving  a  world  of  higher  and  nobler 
forms  of  life,  a  world  whose  elemental  forces 
"strive  ever  upward  toward  light  and  motion"; 
—  if,  now,  I  say,  we  ask  ourselves,  How  does 
such  a  world  come  to  be  regarded  as  a  true 
and  grand  "Cosmos"?  we  cannot  answer  the 
question,  just  as  a  question  of  fact,  and  regard- 
less of  any  attempt  to  justify  the  fact,  without 
taking  chiefly  into  our  account  the  sesthetical 
nature  of  the  human  mind.  We  must  say  that 
the  artistic  spirit  works  powerfully  in  man,  in 
every  normal  man,  whether  he  be  a  mathema- 
tician, or  not;  and  whether  he  be  a  physicist, 
or  a  chemist,  or  neither  of  the  two.  Under  the 
influence  of  this  spirit,  the  uncivilized  man 
shapes  his  pottery,  carves  his  canoe,  and 
decorates  his  clothing,  in  forms  approved  by 
the  highest  art,  both  ancient  Greek  and  modern 
Japanese.  He  does  this  in  the  belief  that 
reality  is  beautiful. 

When  we  say  that  the  World  is  beautiful, 
we  do  not  mean  that  there  are  no  ugly  things 

[161] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

in  it,  or  that  it  always,  or  indeed  ever,  makes 
upon  us  the  impression,  when  taken  as  a 
whole,  of  being  a  quite  thoroughly  pretty 
affair.  But  we  mean  that  the  higher  quali- 
ties of  the  Beautiful,  the  qualities  of  sublimity, 
of  vastness  of  space  and  time  and  power, 
of  orderliness  and  a  sort  of  grand  harmony 
emphasized  even  by  the  horrid  discords  which 
sometimes  shock  our  ears,  rule  in  the  con- 
stitution of  the  World  and  are  somehow 
being  more  perfectly  realized  in  the  World's 
evolution. 

This  sesthetical  belief  of  the  scientific  order 
is  one  of  several  marked  instances  of  the  general 
principle  to  which  attention  has  already  been 
called.  For  the  time  being,  and  in  many  of 
their  aspects,  the  world  of  sense  and  the  world 
of  belief  present  not  a  few  contrasts  and  even 
apparent  contradictions;  and  yet  they  are  not 
two  real  worlds,  but  only  one  real  world  viewed 
from  two  different  points  of  view.  If  we  were 
to  enter,  for  purposes  of  illustration  or  proof, 
into  details,  we  should  have  to  note  the  de- 
pendence of  the  special  form  of  the  beliefs  that 
help  to  shape  the  scientific  conceptions  of  the 
invisible  world  upon  the  prevailing  stage  of 
scientific  knowledge  as  to  the  world  of  sense. 

[162] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

The  two  are  never  the  same.  The  invisible 
world  is  never  the  exact  replica  of  the  world  of 
sense,  —  whether  it  be  the  invisible  world  of 
science,  or  of  art,  or  of  religion.  For  it  is  essen- 
tially true  of  science  as  it  is  of  art  or  of  religion, 
as  has  been  so  finely  said :  "A  beautiful  material 
thing  is  produced  by  our  participation  in  reason 
issuing  from  the  Divine."  But  the  degree  and 
manner  of  this  participation  is,  in  science  as  in 
art  and  religion,  dependent  on  the  environment 
of  the  world  of  sense.  In  this  environment, 
and  under  its  influence,  science  and  art  and 
religion  interact  and  co-operate,  to  construct 
an  ever  more  reasonable  picture,  for  faith  to 
grasp  and  appropriate,  of  the  invisible  and 
yet  truly  real  world.  The  curve  of  the  evolu- 
tion of  civilization  is,  as  Crozier  in  his  "History 
of  Intellectual  Development"  has  said,  "the 
product  and  the  outcome,  not  of  any  one  or 
more  or  even  all  of  these  factors  when  taken 
separately,  but  of  the  interplay  of  them  all 
when  united  and  combined  as  parts  of  a  single 
great  organic  movement."  And  among  other 
instances,  he  refers  to  the  "way  in  which  new- 
born Physical  Science  affected  Theology,  that 
in  turn  Politics,  and  that  again  Morality,  and 
so  on."  (vol.  Ill,  p.  9). 

[163] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Why  then  shall  I  not  hold  that  this  spiritual 
view  of  the  world,  so  persistently  contrasted 
with,  and  so  often  opposed  to,  the  sensuous 
view  of  the  same  world,  is  entitled  to  some  of 
the  respect  given  to  what  we  call  "science?" 
It  is  with  the  assurance  of  faith  in  this  view 
that  the  Duke  of  Argyll  declared  ("Philosophy 
of  Belief,"  p.  186) :  "There  must  be  (italics  ours) 
some  spiritual  and  ethical  relations  correspond- 
ing to  the  ethical  and  spiritual  faculties  of 
which  we  are  conscious  in  ourselves."  As  a 
product  of  belief,  a  kind  of  intuitive  experience, 
this  spiritual  view  belongs  to  the  realm  of  em- 
pirical knowledge;  as  a  product  of  reflection, 
it  is  a  form  of  rational  knowledge.  The 
development  of  the  positive  sciences  themselves 
is  continually  adding  to  the  proofs  that  the 
vast  and,  at  first,  seemingly  heterogeneous 
multitude  of  things,  is  in  reality  a  unity,  being 
perpetually  constructed  and  re-constructed  ac- 
cording to  ideals  which  excite  the  mind  to 
sentiments  of  beauty  for  the  sublimity,  order- 
liness, and  wisdom  which  they  display.  Thus 
the  world  which  satisfies  man's  sesthetical 
nature  and  the  world  which  he  discovers  by 
use  of  his  senses,  and  by  inference  from  such 
discovery,  —  the  world  believed  in,  although 

[164] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

invisible  and  intangible,  and  the  world  actually 
visible  and  tangible,  are  known  as  One  real 
World. 

Closely  allied  with  this  form  of  scientific 
belief,  the  origin  of  which  we  may  assign 
chiefly  to  man's  sesthetical  nature,  is  the 
vague,  and  not  as  yet  well-established  but 
hopeful  belief,  that  the  physical  universe 
admits  of  interpretation  in  accordance  with 
man's  moral  and  religious  as  well  as  intellectual 
ideals.  The  older  forms  of  so-called  "natural 
theology"  attempted  a  conclusive  proof  by 
way  of  induction,  if  not  a  demonstration,  that 
the  world  is  a  "moral  system."  As  a  result  of 
the  survey  of  things,  then,  one  was  invited  to 
climb  by  steps  of  inference  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  same  world  which  the  positive  sciences 
know  is  the  world  of  a  wise  and  benevolent 
God.  In  this  way  the  intellect,  on  a  basis  of 
sense-perception,  was  to  give  genuine  scientific 
value  to  the  faiths  of  religion.  This  so-called 
"argument  from  design"  was  attacked  by 
Kant,  but  with  due  deference  to  its  respecta- 
bility, on  the  terms  of  his  distinction  between 
knowledge  and  faith,  and  his  principle  of 
confining  the  claims  of  the  former  to  the  causal 
connection  of  phenomena  only.  The  blow  at 

[165] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

the  scientific  foundations  of  a  moral  universe, 
struck  at  first  by  analytic  philosophy,  was 
followed  somewhat  more  than  a  half-century 
later  by  a  more  destructive  blow  from  science 
itself.  It  now  seemed  to  be  proved  by  observa- 
tion of  the  senses,  and  by  strictly  logical  infer- 
ence from  such  observation,  backed  up  by  a 
large  amount  of  experimental  results,  that  the 
world  was  not  created  by  a  wise  and  good  God, 
but  was  being  brought  into  existence  by  a  cease- 
less process  of  mechanical  evolution.  Moreover, 
this  process  of  evolution  itself  was  far  enough 
from  being  conducted  with  any  great  amount 
of  regard  for  moral  considerations,  —  at  least 
as  morality  is  conceived  of  in  its  applications  to 
human  society.  The  world  of  the  evolutionary 
hypothesis  seemed  very  far  from  being  per- 
meated with  the  perfection  of  moral  wisdom  or 
unspotted  benevolence. 

A  bitter  controversy  arose.  On  the  one  side 
was  the  often  quite  ridiculous  spectacle  of 
theology  trying  to  drag  science  over  the  line, 
to  the  support  of  its  now  fast-fading  faiths; 
on  the  other  side  appeared  a  crowd  of  doughty 
youthful  "scientists,"  shouting  denial  of  their 
own  most  fundamental  convictions,  in  the  fear 
that  some  of  these  beliefs  might  be  captured 

[166] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

by  theology  and  turned  into  proofs  of  its  tradi- 
tional faiths. 

A  half-century  of  contradictions  and  com- 
promises has  brought  about  a  much  improved 
condition  of  accepted  beliefs  both  of  science 
and  of  religion  with  regard  to  the  way  and  the 
degree  in  which  the  physical  universe  displays, 
or  evinces,  the  moral  principles,  out  of  which 
men  form  their  social  and  religious  ideals,  and 
which  they  consider,  to  some  good  extent  at 
least  as  binding  in  all  matters  of  their  conduct 
toward  one  another.  The  improvement  has 
been  effected  chiefly  by  acceptance  of  the 
recommendation  which  Lotze  issued  in  his 
Academical  lectures  of  1878;  —  "that  the  two 
hostile  parties  should  return  to  modesty;  — 
namely,  that  theological  learning  on  the  one 
side  and  irreligious  natural  science  on  the  other, 
should  not  assert  that  they  have  exact  knowl- 
edge about  so  very  much  which  they  neither  do 
know  nor  can  know.  It  would  therefore 
presuppose  that,  in  the  recognition  of  divine 
mysteries  which  are  left  to  the  interpretation 
of  each  believing  mind,  and  of  general  ethical 
precepts  concerning  the  meaning  of  which, 
moreover,  there  exists  no  controversy,  the 
religious  life  may  unfold  itself  in  accordance 

[167] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

with  the  motto :  In  necessariis  unilas,  in  dubiis 
libertas,  in  omnibus  caritas." 

Just  now,  however,  we  are  interested  in  call- 
ing attention  to  the  fact  that  the  scientific 
attitude  contains  within  itself  at  least  the 
germs  of  a  belief  that  quasi-moral  considera- 
tions do  lie  at  the  foundations  of  the  world's 
constitution  and  evolution.  This  is  in  a  way 
true,  though  less  obviously  true,  even  of  its 
purely  physical  and  chemical  processes.  The 
sesthetical  qualities  of  the  physical  universe, 
the  belief  in  the  existence  and  value  of  which 
we  have  just  attributed  to  the  very  nature  of 
modern  Science,  is,  of  itself,  closely  allied  to, 
if  it  is  not  in  essence  a  part  of  a  moral  belief. 
Only  attribute  a  sort  of  consciousness  to  the 
things  that  are  so  sublime  in  their  obedience 
to  law  and  order,  and  you  endow  them  with 
moral  quality.  This  sentiment,  with  its  ac- 
companying activity  of  the  imagination,  is  so 
very  natural  and  spontaneous,  that  the  reflective 
mind  can  scarcely  escape  its  powerful  influence. 
Climbing  in  the  Alps,  or  gazing  on  the  Hima- 
layas from  Prospect  Hill,  Darjeeling,  the  most 
agnostic  devotee  of  experimental  science  can 
scarcely  help  believing  for  the  moment  in 
nature's  immanent  Divinity. 

[1681 


BELIEFS,   SCIENTIFIC  AND   SOCIAL 

"As  the  dew  is  dried  up  by  the  morning  sun, 
So  are  the  sins  of  mankind  dried  up 
At  the  sight  of  Himachal"; 

thus  runs  a  passage  in  the  Ramayana.  In 
this  confession,  the  modern  agnostic  joins  with 
the  Hindu  theosophist.  By  this  confession  he 
makes  it  evident  that  he  cannot  look  upon 
physical  nature  without  influences  from  his 
own  moral  nature  permeating  its  aspect  and 
directing  his  point  of  view.  Indeed,  the  violent 
accusation  of  immorality,  as  some  men  reckon 
immorality,  which  is  so  often  and  so  thought- 
lessly brought  against  the  bearing  on  human 
interests  of  natural  processes,  is  itself  an 
indirect,  but  no  less  significant  testimony  to 
a  belief  that  these  processes  have  some  sort  of 
moral  character. 

It  is,  however,  when  we  come  to  consider  the 
nature  and  methods  of  the  psychological  and 
historical  sciences,  —  of  economics,  politics, 
sociology,  and  the  science  of  religion,  that  the 
influences  of  this  form  of  belief  become  most 
apparent.  Try  as  hard  as  they  may,  —  and 
they  do  sometimes  try  very  hard,  with  no 
little  display  of  twistings  and  turnings,  — 
these  sciences  can  not  exclude  from  their  very 
incorporation  the  moral  sentiments  and  the 

[169] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

belief  in  the  realities  and  values  corresponding 
to  human  moral  ideals.  As  purely  non-moral 
efforts,  the  psychological  and  historical  sciences 
have  no  existence.  Even  the  discussions  into 
which  they  enter,  and  the  proofs  which  they 
bring  forward,  in  the  effort  to  show  that  they 
have  little  or  nothing  to  do  with  ethical  con- 
ceptions and  ethical  ideals,  are  quite  sufficient 
evidence  of  the  exact  contrary.  What  a  specta- 
cle is  afforded  by  the  gigantic  efforts  of  Nietzsche 
and  his  followers  among  the  economists,  his- 
torians, and  political  philosophers,  to  maintain 
that  the  supremacy  of  might  is  the  higher 
morality!  The  man  with  a  faith  in  moral 
ideals,  as  of  necessity  entering  into  all  the 
sciences  of  this  description  is  quite  surely 
entitled  to  say  to  these  men  who  have  raised 
an  altar  with  this  inscription,  "TO  AN 
UNKNOWN  GOD";  "What  therefore  ye 
worship  in  ignorance,  this  I  set  forth  unto 
you." 

From  such  beliefs  as  those  we  have  just  been 
considering,  it  is  an  easy  and  swift  passage  to 
certain  forms  of  belief  which  condition  and 
shape  all  man's  Social  Development.  Indeed, 
we  find  ourselves  dealing,  not  so  much  with 
two  distinct  classes  of  beliefs  as  with  essentially 

[170] 


BELIEFS,   SCIENTIFIC  AND   SOCIAL 

the  same  beliefs  looking  out  in  different  direc- 
tions and  upon  different  but  related  classes  of 
objects.  This  reciprocal  influence  is  particu- 
larly marked  in  the  case  of  the  religious  belief 
in  the  so-called  supernatural.  All  economic, 
social,  and  political  developments,  and  all  the 
attempts  to  deal  scientifically  with  these  de- 
velopments, have  always  been,  and  stillx  are, 
powerfully  influenced  by  the  belief  in  the 
superhuman  and  supernatural.  The  effect  of 
this  belief  has  of  late  come  to  be  considered 
as  in  general  either  negative  or  positively  re- 
pressing and  retarding.  Doubtless,  it  has  not 
infrequently  proved  so.  But  between  the 
scientific  conception  of  the  natural  and  the 
belief  in  the  supernatural,  —  not,  indeed,  as 
centra-nature  or  as  wholly  &r£ra-natural,  but  as 
infra-natural  (the  spiritual  as  the  very  living 
soul  and  essential  being  of  the  natural),  —  there 
need  be  no  settled  opposition,  not  to  say, 
irreconcilable  antagonism.  As  has  already  been 
shown  in  the  discussion  of  the  conceptions  of 
Matter  and  Nature  (p.  155  ff.),  science  and  faith 
do  not  eliminate,  but  rather  supplement,  the 
one  the  other. 

Among  the  greater  beliefs  which  make  human 
society   and   social   development  possible,   we 

[171] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

may  notice  the  following.  Society  cannot  be 
organized  at  all  without  placing  a  certain 
amount  of  faith  in  the  stability  and  trust- 
worthiness of  man's  physical  environment. 
It  is  the  special  work  of  the  positive  sciences, 
both  physical  and  psychological,  to  discover 
and  promulgate  the  conditions  and  limitations 
of  this  belief.  If  everybody,  at  all  times, 
cherished  and  acted  upon  the  belief  of  the 
millenarian  or  the  political  Cassandra,  human 
society  would  soon  become  chaotic  and  before 
long  come  to  an  end.  The  effect  on  our  social 
and  economic  beliefs  by  periods  of  wide- 
spreading  physical  disaster,  when  for  every 
man  his  world  at  least  seems  to  be  undergoing 
destruction  by  earthquake,  plague,  or  war,  is 
too  well  known  to  be  enforced  by  a  large 
number  of  selected  examples.  It  is  no  time  for 
marrying  and  giving  in  marriage,  or  for  engaging 
in  new  business  and  social  schemes,  when  the 
walls  of  Jerusalem  are  falling. 

Like  all  our  beliefs,  this  one  in  the  stability 
and  general  good- will  of  Nature,  is  often  enough 
disappointed.  But  however  often  disappointed, 
it  rallies  again  and,  with  its  rallying,  the  cus- 
tomary social  constitutions  resume  their  sway. 
No  number  of  repetitions  to  the  process  of 

[172] 


BELIEFS,   SCIENTIFIC  AND   SOCIAL 

disillusionment  so  far  as  the  particular  forms 
taken  by  the  belief  are  concerned,  suffices  to 
make  men  believe  that  Dame  Nature  has 
altogether  "gone  back"  on  them.  Seed  is 
always  cast  into  the  ground  or  upon  the  waters 
in  the  faith  that  it  will  return,  several  fold,  after 
the  appointed  days.  The  belief  is  temporarily 
disappointed;  but  it  revives  in  even  a  stronger 
form.  For  the  growth  of  knowledge  as  to 
nature's  ways  introduces  new  and  improved 
kinds  of  seeds,  improved  and  vastly  more 
productive  modes  of  culture,  and  economics  in 
the  preservation  and  distribution  of  the  fruits 
of  toil.  But  all  the  new  machinery,  all  the 
developments  of  the  products  of  the  field,  the 
work-shop,  and  the  laboratory,  are  necessarily 
created  and  employed  in  the  confidence  that  the 
world  of  things  is  not  fundamentally  capricious, 
that  it  is,  so  to  say,  "disposed  to  be  reasonable; " 
that  it  is  somehow  —  at  the  worst  in  a  some- 
what vague,  figurative  way  —  akin  and  friendly 
to  the  mind  of  man  and  responsive  to  his  more 
unchanging  and  intimate  necessities.  The 
foundation  which  this  belief  affords  to  all  the 
many  species  of  human  social  developments, 
in  all  the  history  of  man's  social  progress,  is 
superficially  shifty  and  precarious;  but  there 

[173] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

is  bed-rock  somewhere  underneath.  And  surely, 
without  it,  society  could  not  exist. 

It  is  instructive  to  note  in  this  connection, 
how  certain  crude  and  primitive  religious  be- 
liefs and  superstitions  mingle  with  this  confi- 
dence in  the  stability  and  good-will  toward  the 
wise  and  industrious  man,  which  is  expected 
from  Nature.  Everywhere  among  savages  and 
civilized  ancients  alike,  the  gods  were  believed 
to  take  an  interest  in  the  results  of  agriculture 
and  handicraft.  They  need,  therefore,  to  be 
placated  by  offerings  and  prayers,  or  by  grate- 
ful acknowledgement  and  sharing  in  the  fruits 
of  men's  labors.  In  ancient  Egypt  it  was 
Osiris  who  showed  men  how  to  water  and  till 
the  fields.  The  same  service  was  performed 
for  the  Hellenes  by  Demeter.  Amidst  a  quite 
different  physical  and  social  environment,  the 
ancient  Peruvians  held  that  the  sun-god  sent 
two  of  his  children,  Manko  Kapak  and  Mama 
Ogllo,  to  teach  agriculture  to  man.  In  China 
it  is  the  office  of  the  Emperor,  as  the  only  one 
worthy  to  represent  the  nation  in  the  worship 
of  Shang  Ti,  who  himself  conducts  the  course  of 
the  furrow  made  by  the  plow  at  the  opening  of 
the  season  for  agriculture.  Now  all  this  mixture 
of  beliefs,  partly  intellectual,  as  modified 

[174] 


BELIEFS,   SCIENTIFIC   AND   SOCIAL 

unceasingly  by  experience  of  one  sort,  and 
partly  religious,  as  awakened  and  cherished  by 
experience  of  another  sort,  combines  to  shape 
the  social  institutions  and  social  development 
of  every  community  of  human  souls. 

But  society  is  even  more  obviously  dependent 
on  certain  personal  faiths  as  existing  among 
the  members  who  compose  it.  In  order  to 
come  into  existence  in  the  first  instance,  every 
form  of  social  organization  involves  the  trust 
of  man  in  his  fellow  man.  Men  cannot  unite 
socially,  unless  they  believe  in,  "take  stock  in," 
one  another.  Universal  disbelief,  taking  the 
form  of  absolute  distrust  of  everybody  by 
everybody,  would  speedily  disintegrate  society, 
would  indeed  make  its  initial  stages  quite 
impossible.  In  the  simplest  and  least  exacting 
of  human  relations,  men  must  exercise  and 
practice  fairly  under  this  belief  in  order  to  insure 
a  small  measure  of  success  by  their  co-operation. 
The  song  of  the  porters  loading  the  boats  on 
"Dear  Mother  Volga,"  is  a  thoroughly  vital 
affair: 

"If  all  don't  grasp  together, 
We  can  never  lift  the  weight." 

The  personal  faith  of  the  liege  lord  in  his 
samurai  retainer,  and  the  responsive  faith  of 

F1751 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

the  samurai  in  his  liege  lord,  characterized  both 
for  good  and  for  evil  the  Old  Japan;  the  same 
faith  of  personal  loyalty  made  possible  the 
success  of  the  New  Japan  in  the  more  recent 
tests  of  its  social  and  political  strength  and 
integrity.  As  was  once  said  of  the  late  Prince 
Ito  to  the  author,  when  surprise  was  expressed 
at  the  implicit  nature  of  his  confidences:  "It 
is  the  invariable  habit  of  the  Prince  when  he 
trusts  anyone,  to  trust  him  absolutely."  With- 
out some  large  and  glorious  faith  of  this  sort 
it  is  especially  difficult,  it  is  indeed  quite  im- 
possible, for  anyone  to  act  the  part  of  a  great 
teacher,  of  the  founder  of  new  social  institutions, 
or  of  the  reformer  of  social  abuses  and  degrada- 
tion. It  is  this  personal  faith  which  secures 
and  perpetuates  such  organizations  as  the 
Society  of  Jesus,  the  Masonic  Order,  and  as 
well  the  Mafia,  the  "gun-squad,"  and  the 
"gang"  of  ruffians.  And,  of  course,  neither 
states  nor  churches  could  exist  without  it. 

How  sadly  and  frequently  this  faith  of  men 
in  one  another  is  disappointed,  no  matter  what 
particular  interest  or  phase  of  human  social 
organization  it  represents;  What  need  is  there 
to  tell?  The  man  of  middle  life  or  beyond  does 
not  exist,  who  cannot  recall  many  instances  of 

[176] 


BELIEFS,   SCIENTIFIC  AND   SOCIAL 

its  failure.  Jesus  trusted  his  whole  cause  to 
twelve  men;  and  one  of  them  was  a  traitor, 
and  another  in  a  "funk"  of  cowardice  betrayed 
him.  And  are  not  present  events  teaching  us 
how  little  confidence  can  be  placed  in  the  most 
solemn  treaty  obligations  or  protestations  of 
moral  principle?  But  men  will  continue  to 
form  domestic  relations,  and  make  friendships, 
and  frame  contracts  and  treaties,  and  associate 
themselves  in  manifold  ways  on  terms  of 
mutual  confidences,  as  long  as  human  society 
exists.  And  this  for  the  very  good  reason  that, 
without  this  faith  in  persons  and  confidence  in 
personal  relations,  society  could  not  exist. 
There  are  hypocrites  and  backsliders  in  abun- 
dance; but  churches  cannot  be  established  and 
continued,  otherwise  than  upon  the  basis  of 
some  kind  of  confession  and  covenant. 

Not  only  some  faith,  and  some  largeness  of 
faith,  but  a  decidedly  optimistic  faith  of  men  in 
one  another,  is  necessary  to  the  highest  interests 
and  noblest  developments  of  human  society. 
In  some  meaning  of  that  much  abused  and 
quite  ordinarily  misunderstood  word,  all  great 
and  successful  reformers  have  been  "optimists"; 
all  the  great  social  up-lif  ts  have  been  in  response 
to  the  pressure  and  upward  pull  of  the  ideals 

[177] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

of  "optimism."  But  we  are  now  within  the 
confines  of  permissible  human  hopes,  rather 
than  within  the  stricter  limits  of  the  most 
highly  probable  beliefs  of  the  scientific  or  the 
social  sort. 

It  is  through  morality,  however,  and  the 
beliefs  which  are  born  in  and  fostered  by  the 
moral  consciousness,  that  the  welfare  and 
lasting  goods  of  human  society  are  made 
possible.  If  society  were  left  solely  to  the 
matter-of-fact  experience  of  the  consequences 
of  wrong-doing,  for  survival  of  the  belief  in  the 
fruitfulness  of  righteousness,  and  for  the  con- 
firmation of  its  fears  of  the  results  of  unright- 
eousness, it  would  not  stop  short  in  sin  of  its 
utter  destruction.  It  is  the  undying  belief 
of  humanity  in  the  values  of  moral  judgment, 
and  in  the  obligations  and  worth  of  moral 
ideals,  which  saves  the  race  from  becoming  one 
big  and  hopeless  collection  of  incorrigible  and 
irredeemable  evil-doers.  It  is  these  moral  be- 
liefs which  prevent  the  world  from  becoming 
one  vast  prison  for  those  condemned  to  life- 
servitude,  or  one  vast  hospital  for  those  afflicted 
with  loathsome  and  fatal  diseases.  Under  the 
worst  social  conditions  there  has  always  been  a 
remnant  that  was,  not  only  itself  salvable,  but 

[178] 


BELIEFS,   SCIENTIFIC   AND   SOCIAL 

that  had  salt  in  it  for  the  salvation  of  others. 
If  we  did  but  know  it,  it  would  probably  be 
shown  true  that,  under  the  worst  conditions, 
the  majority,  rather  than  a  small  remnant, 
were  still  in  the  way  of  possible  salvation 
through  the  power  of  their  moral  and  religious 
beliefs.  Indeed,  it  is  not  impossible  that  the 
very  essentials  of  human  existence  are  bound 
up  with  the  continuance  and  fate  of  these 
moral  and  religious  beliefs.  For  the  individual, 
to  lose  them  utterly  would  be  to  cease  to  exist 
as  a  person.  But  human  society  is  composed 
of  individual  persons,  not  of  individual  things 
or  animals.  Its  very  material,  its  "raw  stuff," 
so  to  say,  cannot  be  furnished  at  all,  except  as 
it  is  found  dependent  upon  the  continuance 
and  the  triumph  of  moral  beliefs. 

This  belief  in  the  social  excellence  of  morality 
is  no  new  affair;  nor  is  it  by  any  means  con- 
fined to  modern  civilized  man.  In  the  most 
"ancient  book  in  the  world,"  the  Maxims  of 
Ptah-hotep,  we  are  told:  "Justice  is  great, 
invariable,  assured;  it  has  not  been  disturbed 
since  the  age  of  Osiris."  "God  will  take 
away  the  bread  of  him  who  enriches  himself 
by  inspiring  fear."  Of  the  most  embryonic 
and  primitive  of  social  organizations  Professor 

[179] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Tito  Vignoli  says  ("Myth  and  Science,"  p.  41): 
"There  is  not  a  society,  however  rude  and 
primitive,  in  which  all  these  relations,  both  to 
the  individual  and  to  society  at  large,  are  not 
apparent;  and  these  are  based  on  superstitions 
and  mythical  beliefs."  But  these  beliefs,  like 
all  other  of  the  greater  human  beliefs,  are 
constantly  undergoing  a  process  of  purification 
which  increases  their  reasonableness,  and  so 
plants  them  yet  more  firmly  at  the  very  roots 
of  human  social  development. 

In  this  connection  we  remark  upon  the  hope- 
less fallacy  involved  in  certain  forms  of  Social- 
ism as  a  theory  and  as  a  cult.  This  arises  from 
its  misplaced  belief  in  the  unregulated  goodness 
and  untrained  wisdom  of  average  human  nature. 
But  still  more  viciously  does  Nihilism,  in 
certain  of  its  forms  and  practices,  trust  the 
passionate  and  blind  impulse  against  existing 
wrongs,  for  the  justification  of  the  destruction 
of  all  the  political  and  social  institutions  which 
have  been  consecrated  by  the  slowly  developing 
beliefs  of  the  past.  Superstitions,  economic, 
political,  social,  moral  and  religious,  must  all 
—  we  cannot  recall  the  obligation  too  often  — 
submit  themselves  to  the  test  of  reasonableness. 
But  the  test  of  reasonableness  is  not  to  be 

[180] 


BELIEFS,  SCIENTIFIC  AND  SOCIAL 

found  by  putting  our  confidence  in  "dreams  of 
the  pipe"  or  of  the  maniac's  cell.  If  we  will 
understand  it  aright,  and  in  no  scornfully 
undemocratic  way,  there  is  sound  truth  in  the 
call:  "We  want  first  of  all  the  few,  .  .  .  the 
blossoming  of  the  race.  It  is  necessary  that 
these  be  found,  or  that  they  find  themselves 
and  that  they  take  their  true  orbits  and  live 
their  true  lives.  .  .  .  For  the  temple  of  human- 
ity has  not  only  the  broad  floor,  but  the  cross 
glittering  above  the  pinnacle."  (Stephen  Gra- 
ham, "A  Tramp's  Sketches,"  p.  332.) 

The  solid  and  lasting  foundations  for  the 
necessary  social  beliefs  of  the  most  reasonable 
and  reasonably  optimistic  sort  are  moral  and 
religious  faiths.  They  depend  upon  the  confi- 
dence in  the  supreme  value  and  final  triumph 
of  the  morally  good,  and  that  "All's  well,"  for 
"God  is  at  the  helm."  But  these  faiths,  in 
their  turn,  demand  and  merit  a  fuller  examina- 
tion in  the  light  of  reflective  thought. 


[181] 


CHAPTER  VII 
THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

ROM  this  time  onward  the  word  "faith" 
will  be  more  frequently  employed  than 
the  word  "belief"  in  discussion  of  the 
various  problems  falling  under  the  answer  to 
the  main  inquiry,  "What  should  I  Believe?" 
The  reasons  for  this  change  in  the  usage  of 
terms  are  chiefly  these  two.  The  former  word 
is  distinctly  better  adapted  to  arouse  and 
express  the  different  attitudes  taken  by  the 
mind  —  or,  rather  by  the  entire  Self  —  toward 
the  objects,  conceptions,  principles  and  ideals 
of  morality  and  religion.  Faith  is  also,  in  its 
own  proper  and  customary  meaning,  more 
obviously  and  more  intimately  subject  to  the 
will  to  believe,  and  so  more  appropriately  made 
a  matter  of  consciously  recognized  obligation. 
At  any  rate,  this  difference  is  fairly  well  illus- 
trated in  the  popular  speech  as  well  as  by  the 
definitions  of  the  dictionaries.  Hence,  it  is 
both  better  ethics  and  better  manners  to  urge 
[182] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

the  duty  of  having  faith  in  the  greater  truths  of 
morality  and  religion  than  to  insist  upon  the 
solemn  obligation  to  adopt  the  tenets,  and 
practice  the  methods,  of  any  political  party; 
or  to  espouse  the  speculations  of  any  group  of 
scientists  or  school  of  philosophers.  It  is  also 
significant  that  exceptions  to  this  rule  are 
usually  based  upon  the  claims  of  the  speculators 
in  politics,  science,  or  philosophy,  to  be  them- 
selves prepared  to  stand  the  test  of  moral 
principles. 

It  will  further  help  the  clearness  of  our 
thinking  and  the  precision  of  the  maxims  which 
it  is  hoped  finally  to  educe  for  purposes  of 
practical  improvement,  if  we  mention  briefly 
some  of  the  more  important  distinctions  which 
are  to  be  made  between  the  meanings  of  these 
two  words.  In  certain  relations  they  are 
correctly  enough  employed  with  little  or  no 
distinction.  This  is  the  case  even  when  men 
are  speaking  of  subjects  in  ethics  and  religion. 
But  even  then,  I  think,  a  somewhat  different 
shade  of  meaning  is  expressed,  and  certainly  a 
quite  different  degree,  if  not  kind  of  feeling  is 
awakened,  by  the  use  of  the  word  "belief"  and 
the  use  of  the  word  "faith."  Both  of  these 
words  imply  intellectual  activity,  and  some 

[1831 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

degree  of  intelligent  apprehension  of  the  reality 
of  the  object,  or  the  verity  of  the  proposition, 
in  whose  behalf  the  conscious  mental  assent  is 
invited.  But  belief  is  the  more  general,  and 
the  more  distinctly  intellectual  term.  Belief 
is  suggestive  of  a  certain  deferential  attitude 
before  more  or  less  probable  evidence  looking 
toward  a  possible  future  "knowledge- judg- 
ment." Faith,  while  it  oftener  suggests  the 
loftiest  flights  of  imagination,  the  most  passion- 
ate forms  of  conviction,  and  the  firmest  attach- 
ments of  the  will,  is  not,  in  the  individual  act 
so  much  concerned  with  the  degree  of  the 
probability  of  the  evidence  on  which  it  is  then 
based.  Especially  in  religious,  and  also  to  a 
less  extent  in  moral  matters,  it  is  customary  to 
distinguish  between  intellectual  belief  in  the 
truth  presented  to  the  mind,  and  the  fastening 
of  the  truth  on  the  heart  and  will  in  the  attitude 
of  faith. 

It  must  not,  however,  be  hastily  concluded 
from  this  warrantable  as  well  as  popular  distinc- 
tion, that  the  truths  of  morality  and  religion 
can  present  themselves  as  duties  to  be  per- 
formed, without  at  the  same  time  recognizing 
their  own  duty  of  perpetually  striving  to  make 
the  form  of  their  presentation  a  more  reasonable 

[184] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

form.  "Bible  religion"  —  to  employ  Cardinal 
Newman's  sweetly  sarcastic  (?)  phrase,  is  never 
the  equivalent  of  the  religious  faith  required 
by  this  religion.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  too 
often  the  substitute  for,  or  stifler  of,  genuine 
religious  faith.  "Bible  religion"  may  be  only 
a  notional  affair;  and  to  a  large  degree  in- 
correctly notional,  at  that,  and  not  a  genuine 
experience  of  intelligent  assent.  But  without 
the  intellectual  element  which  is,  the  rather, 
characterized  by  the  word  belief,  there  can  be 
no  real  faith.  This  is  not,  however,  true  to 
the  full  extent  of  justifying  the  declaration  of 
Emerson,  which  is  made  in  his  customary  sug- 
gestive but  precariously  unqualified  way:  "The 
religion  which  is  to  guide  and  fulfil  the  present, 
whatever  else  it  is,  must  be  intellectual.  The 
scientific  mind  must  have  a  faith  which  is 
science."  The  truth  is  better  told  in  the 
sentence  already  quoted  from  Saint  Bernard: 
"These  two"  (Faith  and  Reason  in  the 
narrower  meaning  of  the  latter  word)  "com- 
prehend the  same  truth;  but  faith  in  closed 
and  involuted,  intelligence  in  exposed  and 
manifest,  form." 

Another  difference  very  commonly  observed 
in  the  popular  usage,  regards  faith  as  chiefly 

[1851 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

personal;  belief  as  essentially,  quite  imper- 
sonal. As  says  the  dictionary:  "We  speak  of 
belief  of  a  proposition,  faith  in  a  promise, 
because  a  promise  emanates  from  a  person." 
On  the  other  hand,  the  two  words  become  most 
nearly,  if  not  wholly,  identical  in  meaning,  when 
they  are  used  with  reference  to  persons  or 
personal  relations.  In  these  uses,  both  are 
regularly  followed  by  the  significant  little 
word  "in."  We  believe  in  our  friend,  or  we 
have  faith  in  him;  it  is  almost  immaterial 
which  phrase  we  employ.  And  yet  not  quite; 
for  there  is  another  more  obvious  difference 
between  the  two  attitudes  of  mind.  Faith  is 
a  warm,  hearty,  and  albeit  emotional,  a  very 
practical  sort  of  word.  For  when  used  as  to 
personal  relations,  it  imports  a  union  of  belief 
and  trust.  This  distinguishing  characteristic 
comes  most  prominently  to  view,  when  we 
consider  what  a  different  thing  it  is  to  believe 
in  a  God  and  to  have  faith  in  our  God.  It  is 
this  essential  aspect  of  faith  which  makes  it 
the  guaranty  of  morality  in  all  relations  with 
our  fellow  men,  and  the  very  essence  of  sub- 
jective religion  in  respect  of  man's  attitude 
toward  the  Divine  Being. 

Out  of  this  conception  of  faith  comes  the 

[186] 


\ 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

trust  we  have  in  personal  testimony,  "fiducial 
rather  than  intellectual  belief";  out  of  it  also 
flows  the  fine  and  fundamental  virtue  of  fidelity, 
or  loyalty  to  causes  and  to  persons.  What 
Lubbock  says  of  two  ancient  worthies  is  true  of 
the  host  of  the  faithful  in  heaven  and  on  earth : 
"The  self-sacrifice  of  Leonidas,  and  the  faith 
of  Regulus,  are  the  glories  of  history."  Fidelity 
in  action  answers  to  the  keeping  of  the  faith 
regarded  as  a  creed  or  system  of  articles  em- 
bodying moral  or  religious  beliefs.  "'Tis  not 
the  dying  for  a  faith  that's  so  hard,  Master 
Harry  .  .  .  'tis  the  living  up  to  it." 

There  is  one  other  consideration  which  may 
properly  influence  our  choice  of  the  word 
Faith  to  indicate  the  nature  of  the  dutiful,  if 
also  reasonable,  attitude  of  the  personal  life 
toward  the  truths  of  morality  and  religion. 
This  is  found  in  the  fact  that  this  attitude  is 
regularly  taken  toward  certain  judgments  that 
have  value;  because  they  embody,  in  however 
inchoate  and  imperfect  form,  certain  ideals 
that  claim  control  over  the  spirit  of  man.  On 
this  account,  our  moral  and  religious  beliefs 
and  the  conduct  of  life  that  responds,  either 
by  way  of  assent  or  of  dissent,  to  these  ideals, 
and  so  the  entire  development  of  the  choicer 

[187] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

factors  and  higher  destinies  of  the  personal  life, 
have  a  supreme  worth. 

It  is,  then,  not  hard  to  see  how  the  faiths  of 
morality  and  religion  have  a  peculiar  kind  of 
claims,  both  of  a  rational  and  also  of  a  more 
obviously  practical  order,  upon  every  person 
who  raises  seriously  the  question,  What  should 
I  believe?  These  same  faiths,  on  account  of 
their  peculiar  nature  and  relations  to  the 
whole  intellectual,  emotional  and  practical 
character  of  the  personal  life,  offer  certain  more 
profound  and  enduring  satisfactions  than  can 
be  gained  by  the  intellectual  acceptance  of  any 
other  class  of  truths,  such  as  are  made  probable 
in  dependence  upon  scientific  exactness  or 
strictly  logical  consistency.  Of  all  man's  be- 
liefs, it  is  by  his  moral  and  religious  faiths, 
that  his  most  intimate  character  is  formed  and 
must  be  judged;  and  that  his  realest  and 
highest  success  in  the  evolution  of  the  personal 
and  spiritual  life  will  be  eventually  determined. 

In  saying  what  has  just  been  urged  in  favor 
of  a  specially  careful  choice  of  one's  moral  and 
religious  faiths,  there  has  been  no  shadow  of 
the  intent  to  withdraw,  not  to  say  contradict, 
what  was  formerly  said  in  speaking  of  the  duty 
attached  to  the  acceptance  or  the  rejection  of 

[188] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

every  form  of  belief.  This  is  the  duty  of  having 
regard  to  the  "reasonableness"  of  any  belief, 
when  it  appears  before  the  will  to  believe  with 
its  claims  to  an  intelligent  and  righteous 
adoption  into  one's  family  of  beliefs.  Moral 
and  religious  faiths  are  probably  of  an  intrinsic 
nature  which  forbids  their  being  constructed 
and  defended  in  terms  quite  satisfactory  to 
the  demands  of  the  positive  sciences  so-called. 
But  that  does  not  diminish  their  essential 
reasonableness;  nor  does  it  essentially  impair 
their  claims  upon  our  moral  and  religious 
consciousness  to  espouse  them  as  faiths  to  live 
and  to  die  by.  This  caution  is  repeated  here 
as  one  always  to  be  kept  in  mind  when  con- 
sidering any  form  of  belief;  and  as  especially 
pertinent  when  we  are  confining  our  attention 
to  the  faiths  of  morality  and  religion.  We  do 
not  propose  to  argue  it  anew.  We  shall,  how- 
ever, present  some  of  the  many  and  almost 
incomparably  weighty  reasons  for  a  carefully 
selected  faith  in  the  conceptions,  principles  and 
ideals  of  morality.  If  we  have  little  or  no  hope 
of  attaining  the  really  undesirable  end  of  a 
scientific  demonstration;  we  do  desire  to  help 
ourselves  to  a  generous  portion  from  "The  Tree 
of  the  Knowledge  of  Good  and  Evil."  The 

[189] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

fruit  of  this  tree  makes  excellent  sauce  with 
which  to  season  our  convictions  respecting  the 
good  and  bad  of  conduct;  also  respecting  its 
standing  in  the  market  of  values,  its  usefulness 
in  promoting  a  sanitary  form  of  living  the 
present  life,  and  perhaps  of  more  surely  attain- 
ing to  the  life  eternal. 

It  may,  then,  be  unequivocally  affirmed  that 
the  faith  in  moral  ideals  makes  a  strong  appeal 
before  the  will  to  believe,  in  the  name  of 
reason.  For,  in  the  first  place,  these  ideals  are 
developments  from  the  accumulated  reflection 
and  enlarging  social  experience  of  the  race 
through  countless  centuries.  There  was  never, 
indeed,  a  time  when,  and  never  a  race  of  men 
so  low  in  the  scale  of  development  that,  the  dis- 
tinction does  not  appear  between  that-which- 
is  and  that-which-ought-to-be,  in  matters  of 
conduct  and  of  character.  This  is  the  same 
thing  as  to  say  that  there  has  always  existed 
before  the  mind  and  will  of  humanity,  some 
kind  of  ideals  of  the  personal  life  as  a  moral 
affair.  The  more  precise  nature  of  these  ideals 
has,  indeed,  undergone  some  change,  some  im- 
portant changes;  but  these  have  been,  in  most 
instances,  changes  of  emphasis  and  of  opportu- 
nity rather  than  alterations  in  the  essential  char- 

[190] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

acter  of  the  ideals  themselves.  As  we  have 
elsewhere  said  ("Philosophy  of  Conduct,"  p. 
363  f.):  "It  should  be  joyfully  noticed  in  this 
connection  how  much  opportunity  for  Individ- 
uality this  view  of  the  unity  of  virtue  permits  to 
every  man.  Virtuous  living  is  not  living  in 
conformity  to  any  one  pattern  of  conduct.  It 
is  no  dead  monotonous  agreement  in  a  sort  of 
common  stock  of  virtues,  from  which  each  man 
may  win  more  or  less  for  himself.  .No  man's 
list  either  of  virtues  or  of  vices  precisely  resem- 
bles that  of  any  other  man.  Indeed,  no  man's 
anger,  or  pride,  or  wisdom,  or  courage,  or  justice, 
or  kindness,  is  precisely  the  counterpart  of  the 
same  qualities  in  another.  For  the  unity  is  in 
and  of  each  individual  selfhood." 

It  is  then  undoubtedly  true,  as  Plato  long 
ago  saw,  that  "no  single  category  will  ade- 
quately express  the  nature  of  our  highest  ideals 
of  the  Good."  These  ideals,  whether  they  are 
those  of  art,  or  of  religion,  or  —  the  case  we 
are  now  considering  —  of  morality,  are  sus- 
ceptible of  development;  and  in  order  to  be 
followed  in  a  spirit  of  hopeful  pursuit,  they 
must  be  adaptable  to  the  differences  that 
constitute  the  temperament  and  the  character 
of  the  individuals  called  to,  and  capable  of,  a 

[191] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

real  personal  life,  as  well  as  to  the  vicissitudes 
of  their  local  environment  and  historical  cir- 
cumstances. To  follow  them  is  not  to  be 
precisely  like  any  other  person,  or  even  to  be 
precisely  like  our  own  best  selves  at  any  one 
time.  But  such  is  the  case  with  all  human 
ideals.  Such  is  the  quality  which  enhances 
their  practical  value. 

There  is,  however,  another,  though  cognate 
aspect  of  the  moral  ideals  to  which  attention 
must  be  directed  in  order  to  emphasize  the  duty 
of  having  faith  in  them.  In  trying  to  estab- 
lish their  reasonableness  we  have  spoken  of 
the  appeal  which  they  make  to  reason  as  the 
products  of  the  reflection  and  experience  of  the 
whole  race  through  the  centuries  of  its  history, 
so  far  as  we  can  read  the  records  of  this  history. 
This  aspect  emphasizes  their  universality  and 
their  universally  powerful  influence.  They 
have  proved  their  claim  to  our  faith  and  to  our 
fidelity  by  proving  the  sincerity  of  their  own 
faith  through  their  works.  We  cannot  set 
forth  this  other  and  complementary  side  of  the 
same  truth  better  than  by  quoting  another 
somewhat  longer  passage  from  the  same  work 
to  which  reference  was  just  made  (p.  651  f.). 
"The  impression  is  confirmed  and  justified 

[192] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

that  the  moral  ideals  of  humanity  are  the  most 
important  factors  in  the  moral  life  and  historical 
development  of  man.  That  this  estimate  is 
true  has  been  abundantly  proved  by  the  study 
of  ethical  phenomena.  A  similar  estimate  can 
be  justified  of  man's  more  definitely  sesthetical 
and  religious  ideals.  In  fact,  human  history  — 
whether  it  be  the  history  of  the  individual,  or 
of  the  race,  or  of  any  particular  part  of  the 
race,  or  particular  social  organization  —  can- 
not be  understood  without  admitting  that  it  is 
all  largely  founded  upon,  shot  through  and 
through  with,  guided  and  inspired  by,  ideals 
and  judgments  of  worth.  Human  history  is 
the  record  of  man's  striving  to  realize  his 
progressively  unfolding  ethical,  artistic,  and 
religious  ideals. 

"This  fundamental  truth  has  its  practical 
side.  No  philosophy  which  does  not  give 
large  room,  profound  significance,  and  a  mighty 
potency  to  the  Ideal,  can  account  for  the 
experience  of  man.  Not  to  use  the  word  in  a 
narrow  and  technical  way,  Idealism  is  the  only 
form  of  philosophy  which  can  claim  to  explain 
the  realities  of  human  experience.  In  a  way 
which  gives  the  key  to  the  rules  of  right  moral 
practice,  it  may  also  be  asserted  that  no  one 

[193] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

who  is  not  an  idealist  can  possibly  be  a  good 
man;  can  even  know  what  kind  of  reality  is 
meant  by  the  very  word  Goodness. 

"Virtue  necessitates  belief  in  the  permanency 
and  unconditioned  worth  of  ideas.  For  virtue 
is  the  realization  by  the  actual  and  historical 
Self  of  an  ideal  selfhood.  Morality,  or  sub- 
jective goodness,  consists  in  devotion  to  the 
ideal.  The  nature  of  the  right  and  the  goal 
of  objective  morality  is  given  in  the  progres- 
sive realization  of  the  universal,  social  Ideal. 
Thus  it  is  that,  without  the  constructive,  ideal- 
izing activities  of  thought  and  imagination; 
and  without  the  awakening  of  faith,  hope,  and 
inspiration,  having  for  their  object  these  con- 
structions; and  without  the  dominance  and 
guidance  of  the  practical  life  by  these  activities; 
morality  is  impossible  for  man.  No  other 
work  could  be  less  easily  spared  by  man's 
moral  evolution  than  that  which  is  wrought  by 
this  constructive  and  idealizing  activity  of  his 
imagination  in  the  ethico-religious  life." 

These  moral  ideals,  then,  exhibit  a  consis- 
tency of  constitution,  and  an  endurance  under 
all  attempts  to  disintegrate  and  disprove  them, 
which  is  one  of  the  most  marvellous  facts  of 
human  history.  So  far  as  the  individual  can 

[194] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

try  them  by  the  experimental  test,  it  is  testi- 
mony of  the  wisest  and  morally  sanest  of  man- 
kind, that  they  bear  the  test  well.  In  spite  of 
biblical  authority,  it  is  not  in  fact  true  that 
"the  righteous  are  never  forsaken  nor  their 
seed  seen  begging  bread."  And  many  a  Job 
has  seemed  to  himself  for  a  time  to  have  abun- 
dant reason  to  say: 

"Behold  I  cry  out  of  wrong, 

but  I  am  not  heard: 
I  cry  for  help,  but  there  is  no  justice." 

But  they  who,  in  spite  of  these  passing  experi- 
ences, cling  with  the  grasp  of  a  faith,  that  has 
drawn  near  to,  and  even  looked  into  the  pit  of 
Despair,  are  generally  wont  to  join  in  the  final 
words  of  the  hero,  as  the  curtain  drops  at  the 
close  of  this  most  wonderful  of  moral  dramas: 

"I  had  heard  of  thee 

by  the  hearing  of  the  ear; 
But  now  mine  eye  seeth  thee: 
Wherefore  I  abhor  myself, 

And  repent  in  dust  and  ashes. 

Here  again  we  must  refer  to  the  truth  that 
in  all  classes  of  the  greater  beliefs  of  humanity, 
and  especially  in  the  faiths  of  morality  and 
religion,  their  reasonableness  cannot  be  fairly 
estimated,  cannot  even  have  its  claims  under- 
stood, without  taking  into  chief  account  the 

[195] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

facts  of  the  beliefs  and  faiths  themselves.  This 
enduring  nature  of  the  faith  of  man  in  the 
worth  of  his  moral  ideals  is  truly  one  of  the 
most  suggestive  and  impressive  of  psychical  and 
spiritual  phenomena.  Some  of  the  most  pitiful 
and  tragic  spectacles  in  the  lives  of  the  choicest 
sons  and  daughters  of  humanity,  —  of  those 
most  worthy  to  be  called  true  sons  and  daughters 
of  God,  —  bear  thrilling  witness  to  the  uncon- 
querable nature  of  this  faith.  No  cogency  of 
argument  that  sets  out  from  the  tenets  of  a 
eudsemonistic  philosophy,  no  appeals  to  the 
profitableness  of  abandoning  or  concealing  one's 
position  of  a  sworn  allegiance  to  these  ideals, 
no  ecclesiastical  or  political  subtleties,  succeed 
in  moving  the  will  of  such  faithful  ones  to  desert 
to  the  other  side.  Their  faith  seems  fanatical; 
it  may  indeed  be  really  fanatical.  But  reason- 
able, or  not,  as  respects  the  conscious  grounds 
on  which  it  firmly  places  itself,  and  worthy  as 
it  may  be  for  the  time  of  a  certain  degree  of 
condemnation  for  its  lack  of  reasonableness, 
it  is  always  significant  testimony  to  the  essential 
characteristics  of  the  convictions  that  attach 
themselves,  by  act  of  will,  to  faith  in  the  worth 
of  moral  ideals.  And  not  infrequently,  that 
which  the  superficial  estimate,  blurred  senti- 
[196] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

ment,  and  corrupt  practice,  of  the  current  time 
has  convicted  of  fanaticism,  turns  out  to  have 
been,  the  rather,  a  sort  of  untimely,  yet  divinely 
inspired  insight  into  a  future  nobler  and  worthier 
embodiment  in  human  faith  and  human  prac- 
tice of  the  moral  ideals. 

Closely  connected  with  this  consideration, 
or,  indeed,  as  an  essential  part  of  it,  is  that 
optimistic  faith  which  founds  and  cherishes  an 
undying  confidence  in  the  final  triumph  of  the 
morally  good;  and  of  all  the  other  goods  that 
are  involved  in,  and  dependent  upon,  this 
supreme  good.  The  optimism  that  is  born  of 
faith  in  the  ultimate  triumph  of  the  ideals  of 
morality  is  the  only  kind  of  optimism  that 
rests  on  solid  grounds.  Unless  the  moral  ideals 
of  the  race  are  clung  to,  developed  toward 
higher  degrees  of  reasonableness,  in  their  own 
right)  as  the  saying  is,  and  made  more  dominant; 
neither  civil  service,  nor  economic  advantage, 
nor  scientific  progress,  will  secure  the  increased 
welfare  of  mankind.  As  long  as  these  ideals 
maintain  the  same  low  standard  and  feebleness 
of  faith  in  their  right  to  control  the  human  will, 
the  injustices  of  peace  and  the  cruelties  of  war 
will  not  cease  or  even  be  mitigated  in  any  large 
degree.  The  sack  of  Yang  Chou-fu  by  the 

[197] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Manchus  in  1645,  when  the  soldiery  murdered 
and  plundered  and  outraged,  within  ten  days, 
nearly  one  million  innocent  men,  women  and 
children,  was  scarcely  more  beastly  than  that 
of  the  Tartar  City  at  Sian-fu,  two  hundred  and 
sixty-five  years  later,  by  the  Chinese  who 
boasted  of  their  modern  culture  and  zeal  as 
reformers!  And  the  behavior  of  modern  mili- 
tarism in  Christian  Europe,  when  it  forsakes 
the  moral  ideals  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  for  the 
maxims  of  a  might  that  makes  right  as  its  politi- 
cal ideal,  shows  scanty  improvement  over  that 
of  ancient  Imperial  Rome.  Yet  an  eye-witness 
and  sufferer  from  the  horrors  of  more  than  two 
and  a  half  centuries  ago  closes  his  sad  narra- 
tive with  this  reflection:  "Perchance  posterity, 
born  in  a  happier  age,  may  be  interested  in 
perusing  this  diary,  and  it  may  serve  to  point 
a  moral  for  the  unreflecting.  It  may  even  cause 
vindictive  and  cruel-minded  men  to  reflect  on 
the  error  of  their  ways,  and  thus  be  of  some 
value,  as  a  solemn  warning." 

This  problem,  —  namely,  that  of  the  final 
prevalence  of  moral  ideals,  and  of  the  duty  of 
an  optimistic  faith  in  them,  —  when  viewed 
from  the  more  definitely  religious  point  of  view, 
becomes  the  problem  of  evil  as  judged  from 

[198] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

the  stand-point  of  faith  in  God  as  perfect 
Ethical  Spirit.  That  it  costs  —  costs  heavily 
and  persistently,  enormous  loads  of  toil  and 
suffering  —  to  get  ahead  with  these  ideals,  the 
facts  forbid  us  to  deny.  Our  faith  in  them,  in 
their  high  worthiness  and  essential  conquering 
quality,  if  they  are  given  time  enough,  must 
often  persist  in  spite  of  the  patent  facts.  But 
the  fact  that  it  does  so  persist  is  a  powerful  item 
of  proof  of  its  own  trustworthiness.  The  faith  of 
optimism  is  not  susceptible  of  proof  by  appeal 
to  the  course  of  human  history,  if  we  neglect  the 
character  and  the  persistence  and  the  powerful 
influence  of  that  faith  itself.  This  faith  does 
not  rest  wholly,  or  chiefly,  on  purely  empirical 
grounds.  It  can  never  be,  and  really  it  never 
is,  established  by  the  calculations  of  economists, 
or  the  partisan  claims  of  politicians,  or  the 
traveller's  observations  of  the  signs  of  culture 
and  of  material  prosperity.  But  it  claims 
reasonableness  for  itself,  as  it  springs  from  the 
very  depths  of  the  personal  life,  commends  it- 
self to  the  spirit  when  making  up  its  estimates 
of  what  has  real  and  lasting  value  in  human 
affairs,  and  fastens  itself  upon  the  will  in  a  way 
to  demand  at  all  costs  its  fullest  and  most  loyal 
allegiance. 

[199] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Voltaire  was  not  so  great  a  scoffer  at  the 
religious  dogma  and  ritual  of  his  own  day  that, 
profoundly  moved  by  the  disaster  to  Lisbon, 
he  could  not  write: 

"All  will  one  day  be  well,  we  fondly  hope; 
That  all  is  well  today,  is  but  the  dream 
Of  erring  men,  however  wise  they  seem; 
And  God  alone  is  right.  " 

The  faiths  of  morality  put  a  weight  of  stern 
obligation  upon  the  moral  consciousness  of 
every  individual  man,  and  of  every  community 
and  age  in  the  historical  evolution  of  mankind. 
Inasmuch  as  all  moral  ideals  have,  from  their 
very  nature,  a  bearing  on  the  control  of  conduct, 
they  enter  at  once  into  the  sphere  of  obligation. 
They  appear  clothed  in  sacred  garb  at  the 
throne-room  of  conscience.  We  may  not  say 
whether  we  will  or  will  not,  examine  into  their 
reasonableness.  We  may  not  say,  whether 
we  will,  or  will  not,  try  to  choose  the  best 
available  among  them  for  our  very  own.  These 
faiths  are  not  beliefs,  to  be  suspected  of  super- 
stition as  they  stand  begging  before  the  closed 
door  of  the  human  Will.  They  give  a  manda- 
tory summons  upon  that  door.  And  if  we  are 
lovers  of  righteousness,  we  will  not  compel  them 
to  plead  in  the  words  of  Israel's  great  Love 
Song, 

[200] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

"Open  to  me  .  .  . 

For  my  head  is  filled  with  dew, 

My  locks  with  the  drops  of  the  night." 

As  a  sort  of  corollary  or  practical  inference 
from  this  faith  in  the  value  and  ultimate 
triumph  of  the  ideals  of  morality,  is  the  belief 
in  the  retributive  character  of  good  and  bad 
conduct  as  considered  from  the  moral  point  of 
view.  This  aspect  of  the  problem  becomes  in 
the  higher  forms  of  monotheistic  religion  the 
problem  of  evil  in  a  universe  whose  creator  and 
moral  ruler  is  assumed  to  be  a  perfectly  just 
and  good  God.  Theology  and  the  philosophy 
of  religion  call  it  an  attempt  at  a  Theodicy,  or 
justification  of  the  ways  of  God  to  man.  This 
is  the  question  which  puzzled  the  patriarch 
Job:  "Why  do  the  wicked  live,  become  old, 
yea,  are  mighty  in  power?"  It  is  the  same 
question  which  the  poet  Theognis  put  into  the 
words:  "How  canst  thou,  O  son  of  Saturn,  put 
the  sinner  and  the  just  man  on  the  same  foot- 
ing?" But  the  pressure  of  the  faith  in  moral 
ideals,  as  these  ideals  have  approached  nearer 
to  the  goal  of  a  complete  reasonableness,  has 
compelled  increasing  confidence  in  the  firm 
connection  between  righteousness  and  blessed- 
ness; although  both  the  righteousness  and  the 

[201] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

blessedness  which  belongs  of  right  to  righteous- 
ness, may  have  to  be  approached  along  a  path 
thickly  strewn  with  wrong-doing  and  its  retrib- 
utive sorrows  and  pains.  Even  those  systems 
of  reflective  thinking  which  have  espoused  a 
sort  of  moral  dualism,  and  so  have  represented 
the  schism  between  the  two  as  eternally  seated 
in  the  universe,  —  Evil  and  Good,  and  the 
hopeless,  never-ending  strife  between  the  two, 
—  have  not  really  escaped  the  confidence  and 
the  hope  that  characterize  the  faith  of  moral 
optimism.  As  Pfleiderer  says  of  the  oldest 
and,  in  a  way,  the  most  respectable  of  these 
forms  of  moral  Dualism:  "The  peculiarity  of 
the  reform  of  Zarathustra  appears  to  have 
consisted  in  this,  that  he  placed  the  opposed 
spirits  of  the  Iranian  Nature-religion  in  two 
hostile  kingdoms,  each  presided  over  by  a 
spiritual  power;  and  that,  nevertheless,  by  his 
exalted  idea  of  the  good  God  and  Creator  he 
approached  closely  to  monotheism." 

But  the  other  side  of  this  faith  in  the  ideals 
of  morality  is  the  belief  in  an  equally  firm 
connection  between  suffering  and  unrighteous- 
ness. Even  original  Buddhism,  the  religion  of 
Sakya-Muni,  although  it  denied  the  reality  of 
the  gods  of  Hinduism  and  the  substantial  and 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

eternal  existence  of  the  human  soul,  could  not 
dispense  with  that  belief  in  retributive  justice 
which  is,  so  to  say,  the  complement  of  the 
faith  in  the  value  and  ultimate  triumph  of 
moral  ideals.  This  confidence  early  Buddhism 
undertook  to  express  in  its  doctrine  of  Karma. 
"A  man's  deeds  are  like  seeds,"  said  Gautama; 
"and  wherever  his  personality  may  be,  there 
these  seeds  repose."  But  in  the  later  develop- 
ments of  Buddhism,  the  necessity  of  pictorial 
concreteness  revived  and  embellished  with  all 
its  possible  horrors,  the  dogma  of  a  hell  of 
material  torture  administered  by  vindictive 
and  more  than  humanly  cruel  justice. 

The  modern  age  has  dropped  the  embellish- 
ments of  a  belief  in  the  retributive  side  of  the 
ideals  of  morality.  Indeed,  it  has  gone  further, 
and  has  succeeded  in  largely  obscuring  or  dis- 
crediting the  idea  which  they  attempted  to 
make  emphatic  in  physically  repulsive  ways. 
But  it  has  not  at  all  altered  the  foundations  of 
this  belief,  as  they  are  laid  in  the  faiths  of 
ethics;  whether  these  faiths  be  stated  in  scholas- 
tic or  in  more  popular  form.  Righteousness  and 
blessedness  go  hand  in  hand,  if  we  have  reference 
to  their  march  down  through  the  centuries. 
Unrighteousness  is  inevitably  followed  by  suffer- 

[203] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

ing,  —  some  time,  some  how,  by  some  one; 
this  is  the  law  of  an  ethically  constituted 
universe.  It  is  a  law  which,  in  the  long  run, 
maintains  itself  over  individuals,  over  com- 
munities, over  nations,  and  between  individuals 
and  nations. 

We  cannot  indeed  indisputably  trace  in  every 
individual  case,  and  perhaps  not  in  the  majority 
of  individual  cases,  the  sufferings  of  individuals 
to  their  own  wrong-doing.  And  it  is  by  no 
means  the  most  truly  righteous,  who  are  most 
conspicuous  in  attributing  their  prosperity,  of 
whatever  kind,  to  their  own  distinction  in 
righteousness.  But  on  the  whole,  about  all  the 
inescapable  ills  of  life,  which  every  individual 
is  called  upon  to  bear,  are  due  to  his  own  or  to 
some  other's  wrong-doing.  On  the  other  hand, 
every  one  who,  as  the  saying  is,  "aims  to  do 
right,"  although  he  may  not  always  hit  the 
mark,  is  entitled  to  the  fullest  measure  of 
comfort  from  that  grand  and  beautiful  saying 
of  our  favorite  Stoic  philosopher:  "It  is  diffi- 
cult, I  own,  to  blend  and  unite  tranquillity  in 
accepting,  and  energy  in  using,  the  facts  of  life; 
but  it  is  not  impossible."  Still  less  of  doubt 
can  be  thrown  upon  the  belief  that  it  is  wrong 
conduct  which  produces  most  of  the  confusion 

[204] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

and  suffering  in  the  relations  of  classes,  and 
parties,  and  ranks,  and  degrees  of  social  or 
educational  or  financial  distinctions.  While, 
that  it  is  the  crimes  of  peace  which  produce  the 
woes  of  war  between  nations,  there  is  no  ground 
for  reasonable  doubt. 

From  all  this  it  follows  that  the  triumph  of 
the  ideals  of  morality  must  come  through  the 
putting-down  in  some  way  of  the  forces  of 
immorality.  And  the  beginning  of  this  is  the 
self -conquest  of  the  individual  in  the  interest  of 
those  ideals,  the  free-choice  of  a  will  yielding 
itself  without  reserve  to  the  control  of  those 
ideals.  This  is  the  essence  of  the  personal  life, 
as  understood  and  cultivated  from  the  points 
of  view  afforded  by  the  high-places  on  which 
are  erected  the  altars  of  moral  faith. 

We  have  returned,  then,  to  the  conclusion  to 
which  we  were  conducted  when  examining  the 
essential  distinctions  between  the  lesser  and  the 
greater  faiths;  and  the  claims  which  the  latter 
make  upon,  and  the  obligations  under  which 
they  lay,  those  who  are  the  rich  possessors  of 
the  gift  of  personal  life.  The  faiths  of  morality 
are  such  that  without  them  personality  cannot 
exist.  Without  their  acceptance  by  the  will  to 
believe,  the  personal  life  cannot  develop  sanely 

[205] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

and  successfully.  Without  cherishing  them, 
the  obligations  of  the  personal  life  cannot  be 
fulfilled.  Without  their  recognition  and  de- 
velopment, the  constitution  of  society  and  all 
social  evolution  are  impossible. 

With  all  our  boasting  over  our  social  develop- 
ment —  some  of  which  is  justified,  but  most  of 
which  is  quite  unjustified  —  it  can  scarcely  be 
denied  that  the  temptations  to  be  weak  and 
delinquent  in  the  faiths  of  morality  are  very 
powerful  and  efficient  at  the  present  time. 
Indeed,  there  is  no  little  suppressed  contempt, 
if  not  open  scorn,  for  some  of  those  ideals  of 
conduct  which  the  best  thought  and  noblest 
action  of  the  race  have  evolved  in  its  past  his- 
tory. Among  these,  the  earnest  inquirer,  What 
should  I  believe?  may  note  the  following,  and 
be  on  his  guard  against  them  as  the  chief 
temptations. 

Doubtless,  we  shall  not  touch  and  set  vibrat- 
ing any  popular  chord  of  sympathy,  by  the 
claim  that  the  current  advices  of  the  prevalent 
ethical  and  speculative  philosophy  are  decidedly 
opposed  to  much  profound  and  efficient  faith 
in  the  ideals  of  morality.  We  do  not  think  to 
convict  any  unwilling  soul,  or  even  any  unin- 
formed mind,  by  uttering  warnings  against 

[206] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

"Empiricism,"  "Pragmatism,"  or  the  doctrines 
of  Nietzsche  and  his  followers,  —  frankly 
avowed,  or  pseudo,  or  otherwise.  He  who 
thinks  that  the  Uebermensch,  is  a  moral  man, 
or  that  the  higher  ethics  authorizes  nations  to 
use  all  means  in  the  interests  of  their  own 
aggrandizement,  is  already  far  beyond  the 
range  of  our  voice,  whether  for  purposes  of 
denunciation,  or  warning,  or  entreaty.  But 
we  would  have  every  man  who  honestly  asks 
himself  the  question,  What  should  /  believe? 
examine  thoroughly  the  consequences,  as  well 
as  the  positions  of  these  philosophies  in  their 
bearing  on  the  faiths  of  morality. 

And  this  brings  us  to  another  yet  more  subtle 
temptation.  The  age  is  disinclined  to  reflec- 
tion, —  especially  on  fundamental  matters  of 
morals  and  religions.  In  its  clamor  for  the 
"practical,"  it  has  quite  too  often  and  sadly 
forgotten  that  the  moral  is  the  practical;  and 
that,  no  more  in  morals  than  in  any  other  form 
of  manufacture,  can  you  get  the  desired  product 
without  using  the  correct  method.  The  right 
method  cannot  be  secured,  presented  to  the 
will,  and  made  the  object  of  intelligent  choice, 
without  first  being  subjected  to  reflection. 
Even  our  most  active  men  in  experimental 

[2071 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

science  are  bitterly  complaining  of  the  meagre- 
ness  of  their  results,  because  they  have  no 
time  for  reflection.  But  the  more  foreboding 
phenomenon  is  the  fact  that  so  little  of  the 
results  which  are  put  forth  in  the  name  of  science 
can  afford  any  sure  basis  for  reflection.  The 
same  thing  is  true  of  our  politics,  of  our  law,  of 
our  literature,  of  our  education.  For  debate  is 
not  reflection,  whether  conducted  by  fluent 
pens  or  strident  voices.  But  above  all,  is  this 
unwillingness  or  practical  inability  to  reflect 
pernicious  in  its  effects  upon  the  faiths  of 
morality  and  religion. 

A  kindred  temptation  arises  from  the  pressure 
of  interests  that  cannot  possibly  be  made  con- 
sistent with  moral  ideals.  Who  can  maintain 
that  the  prevailing  methods  of  business,  of 
politics,  of  intercourse  between  individuals 
and  nations  are  being  shaped  chiefly  by  intelli- 
gent regard  for  the  inestimable  worth  and 
destined  triumph  of  the  ideals  of  morality? 
About  as  little  doubt  is  there  that  our  educa- 
tional and  religious  institutions,  and  even  our 
missionary  organizations,  are  far  enough  from 
resisting  the  tremendous  pressure  brought  to 
bear  upon  them  in  directions  adverse  to  those 
in  which  they  would  be  conducted  by  a  perfect 

[£08] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

and  consistent  faith  in  the  value  and  in  the 
final  supremacy  of  moral  ideals.  Even  the 
decline  of  any  sort  of  interest  in  these  ideals  is, 
in  too  many  quarters,  quite  obvious  enough  to 
dispense  with  any  reference  to  particulars. 

But  all  these  temptations  afford  no  adequate 
excuse  for  the  man  who  does  not  bow  his  will 
to  this  answer  to  our  question:  You  should  pin 
your  faith  to  the  ideals  of  morality;  and  you 
should,  with  fidelity,  gallantry,  and  endurance, 
hold  by  this  faith.  In  this  way,  we  may  not, 
indeed,  escape  the  experience  to  which  Schiller 
refers  in  his  ode  "To  The  Ideal." 

"The  space  between  the  Ideal  of  man's  soul 

And  man's  achievement,  who  hath  ever  passed?" 

But  we  may  escape  the  necessity  of  lamenting, 

"Gone  the  divine  and  sweet  believing 
In  dreams  which  Heaven  itself  unfurled." 

In  a  word,  then,  the  faith  in  moral  ideals,  in 
their  validity,  value,  and  final  triumph,  and  in 
their  practical  control  of  the  issues  of  life  and 
of  human  destiny,  makes  an  imperative  claim 
upon  the  reason  and  the  will  of  every  indi- 
vidual man.  Some  of  this  faith  is  necessary 
to  the  constitution  of  personality,  to  the 
"make-up"  of  a  Self.  To  cherish  this  faith 

[209] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

and  to  make  it  the  guide  and  the  master  of 
one's  conduct,  is  the  essential  of  all  safe  and 
true  evolution  of  personal  life.  Without  this 
form  of  the  will  to  believe,  —  this  supremely 
"great  belief"  —  the  final  purpose  of  the  divine 
gift  of  personality  can  never  be  realized. 

In  closing  this  Chapter  there  are  two  refer- 
ences to  thoughts,  which  carry  our  minds  far 
beyond  the  interests  of  any  individual,  that 
may  fitly  be  placed  upon  the  page.  One  of 
these  emphasizes  the  intimate  connections 
between  the  faiths  of  morality  and  the  religious 
development  of  the  race.  These  faiths  must 
themselves,  if  possible,  be  more  securely 
grounded  in  the  reality  of  the  Universe  as 
known  from  every  trustworthy  source  and 
convincing  point  of  view.  In  the  effort  to 
bring  this  about  we  seek  the  aid  of  religion. 
In  this  way  it  is  aimed  to  secure  the  faith  in 
moral  principles  and  moral  ideals,  by  buttress- 
ing them  with  faith  in  personal,  perfect  Holy 
Spirit  as  the  immanent  Life  of  the  World,  and 
the  ruler  and  redeemer  of  humanity.  Thus 
a  "real,"  as  well  as  a  "notional,"  apprehension, 
or  assent  by  an  intuitive  act  of  belief,  may  be 
obtained  for  the  faiths  of  morality. 

The  relation  between  the  faiths  of  morality 

[210] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  MORALITY 

and  the  higher  kinds  of  literature  is  not  so  obvi- 
ous, but  it  is  scarcely,  if  at  all,  less  intimate  and 
binding.  It  is  not  without  significance  in  this 
direction  that  the  author  of  the  Introduction  to 
the  German  Classics  finds  himself  obliged  to 
admit  that,  for  nearly  a  century,  there  has 
been  no  great  religious  poetry  in  Germany, 
and  few  or  no  hymns  to  compare  in  poetic  fervor 
and  dignity  with  the  Mediaeval  Latin  hymns; 
or  in  sweet  and  touching  simplicity  with  holy 
George  Herbert,  or  with  the  utterances  in  song 
of  the  German  Mystics.  For  in  truth,  no 
great  literature  can  arise  and  flourish  in  an  age 
which  has  no  vital  and  influential  faith  in  a 
world  of  moral  and  religious  ideals.  It  is  not 
the  world  of  sense,  except  as  giving  incitement 
to  the  insights,  and  body  and  form  to  the 
world  of  the  spirit  as  it  appears  to  the  eye  of 
faith,  which  can  be  the  mother,  or  the  foster- 
mother,  of  great  poetry,  essay,  drama,  philoso- 
phy or  any  form  of  great  literature,  in  the  more 
exclusive  but  appropriate  meaning  of  the  term. 
Only  moral  fervor,  born  of  a  firm  trust  in 
the  supreme  value  of  spiritual  realities,  can 
produce  a  literature  that  is  worthy  to  be  called 
great. 

[211] 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

F II  ^HE  psychology  of  faith  is  prepared  to 
make  the  most  important  contribu- 

J[  b  tions  to  the  understanding  of  the 
phenomena  of  religion,  whether  as  a  personal 
life  or  as  a  historical  development.  "Every- 
where," says  a  writer  on  this  subject  (Waitz), 
"essentially  the  same  type  of  spiritual  life 
meets  us."  "We  find,"  says  another  writer, 
also  from  the  historical  point  of  view  (M. 
Reville),  "the  same  fundamental  principles, 
the  same  laws  of  evolution  and  transformation, 
the  same  internal  logic";  in  a  word,  "a  funda- 
mental identity  of  spiritual  being"  with  our- 
selves. And  to  this  thought  still  another  writer 
adds:  "All  mythology  and  all  history  of  beliefs 
must  finally  turn  to  psychology  for  their 
satisfactory  elucidation." 

It  will  be  noticed,  however,  by  all  careful 
readers  on  this  subject  that  the  word  cus- 
tomarily employed  in  describing  the  attitude 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

of  the  human  mind  toward  its  object  is,  in  all 
the  lower  forms  of  religion,  the  word  "belief" 
rather  than  the  word  "faith."  This  distinction 
is  significant,  whether  it  be  intelligently  made 
or  not.  For  in  these  lower  forms,  the  mind's 
assent  is  uniformly  characterized  by  a  lack  of 
attempts  at  harmony  with  our  more  positive 
knowledge  about  the  facts  and  laws  of  the 
physical  universe  and  of  the  mental  and  moral 


life  of  man;  it  is,  therefore,  affected  with  the 
weaknesses  of  credulity,  the  vices  of  super- 
stition, and  the  defects  of  moral  imbecility. 
When,  however,  the  intellectual  elements  of 
belief  have  incorporated  more  of  a  "sweet 
reasonableness,"  and  have  adopted  into  them- 
selves the  ideals  of  personal  life  from  the  moral 
point  of  view,  this  attitude  of  assent  itself 
becomes  essentially  changed  in  its  character. 
To  personal  trust  in  a  personal  Object,  who  is 
conceived  of  as  enfolding  all  the  ideals  of  truth, 
wisdom,  beauty,  and  goodness,  as  not  only 
Absolute  and  Infinite  but  as  perfect  Ethical 
Spirit,  the  Father  and  Redeemer  of  man,  are 
added  love  and  the  yielding  of  the  will  in 
obedience.  Belief,  which,  while  it  remains 
mere  intellectual  assent,  may  be  credulous, 
superstitious,  and  inoperative  or  even  opposed 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

to  the  pursuit  in  the  practical  life  of  moral 
ideals,  blossoms  into  a  reasonable  faith. 

In  order  to  understand  such  a  faith,  with  its 
individual  variations  and  its  historical  develop- 
ments, it  will  be  enough  for  our  present  purpose 
to  quote  from  a  work  in  which  the  whole 
subject  is  discussed  at  length  and  in  its  many 
phases  ("Philosophy  of  Religion,  pp.  89  f.): 
"Taken  at  its  lowest  terms  and  considered  as 
universal  with  man,  religion  is  the  belief  in  in- 
visible  superhuman  powers  (or  a  Power),  which 
are  (is)  conceived  of  after  the  analogy  of  the 
human  spirit;  on  which  (whom)  man  regards 
himself  as  dependent  for  his  well-being,  and  to 
which  (whom)  he  is,  at  least  in  some  respects, 
responsible  for  his  conduct;  together  with  the 
feelings  and  practices  which  follow  from  such  a 
belief.  Thus  the  lowest  form  of  religion  is  most 
properly  denominated  a  'vague  and  unreflect- 
ing Spiritism.' 

"Thus  defined  the  essential  characteristic  of 
religious  belief,  as  it  springs  everywhere  and  at 
all  times  from  the  soul  of  man,  is  the  belief  in 
'Other-soul  that  is  also  Over-Soul. '  From 
this  belief,  and  as  inseparably  connected  with 
it,  various  feelings  arise,  which  for  their  peculiar 
characteristics  and  differentiation  depend  upon 

[214] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

the  character  attributed  to  those  invisible, 
superhuman,  and  spiritual  powers,  that  are 
'posited,'  as  it  were,  by  the  belief  itself.  And 
in  an  equally  natural  and  inevitable  way, 
certain  practices  having  reference  to  flips**, 
powers  and  to  man's  adjustment  of  his  active 
relations  toward  them,  form  a  part  of  religion. 
"It  will  be  seen,  then,  that  religion  con- 
sidered content- wise  is  an  attitude  of  the  human 
Self  toward  other  and  superior  Soul-life,  which 
it  is  desirable  or  necessary  to  apprehend  and 
to  conciliate,  because  this  Other  can  affect 
man's  welfare  in  manifold  important  ways. 
Religion  is  thus  essentially  animistic;  if  only 
the  term  be  employed  in  a  sufficiently  indefinite 
and  comprehensive  fashion.  What  is  the  pre- 
cise nature  of  the  spirits  (or  animae)  which  are 
thus  brought  by  religion  into  relation  to  the 
life  of  man,  is  a  question  to  which  the  earlier 
forms  of  belief  give  most  vague,  uncertain, 
and  even  fantastic  answers.  For  man  has,  as 
yet,  attained  little  or  no  reflective  knowledge 
of  his  own  Self -hood;  and  the  stirrings  of  his 
fancy,  emotional  impulses,  and  unintelligible, 
obscure  longings,  are  not  at  all  clear  as  respects 
their  significance  and  worth  to  himself.  A 
child  of  nature,  he  views  all  nature  as  moved 

[215] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

and  influenced  by  soul-life  similar  and  yet 
superior  to  his  own.  His  conception  of  his  own 
spirit  is  not  a  fixed  and  well-defined  affair, 
either  as  to  its  characteristics,  or  location,  or 
relations  to  the  body,  or  to  other  human  spirits, 
or  to  the  Other-and-Over  Souls  with  which 
his  imagination  peoples  the  world.  But  inas- 
much as  he  is  sensitive  to  whatever  affects  his 
happiness  or  misery,  and  has  the  rude  but 
potent  social  and  ethical  notions  which  so 
largely  enter  into  his  constitution  as  human, 
he  desires  to  adjust  himself  to  the  invisible  and 
spiritual  world  which  is,  he  believes,  the  most 
important  part  of  his  environment." 

The  universality  of  religious  belief,  from 
the  earliest  times  back  to  which  the  history  of 
the  race  can  be  credibly  traced,  and  down  to  the 
lowest  stages  of  savagism  or  of  the  mythical 
"primitive  man"  to  which  scientific  hypothesis 
can  be  respectably  carried,  is  now  conceded  by 
practically  all  the  most  trustworthy  author- 
ities. "I  have  sought  atheism  in  the  lowest 
as  well  as  the  highest.  I  have  nowhere  met 
with  it  except  in  individuals  or  in  more  or  less 
limited  schools"  (Quatref ages) .  "Hitherto  no 
primitive  people  has  been  discovered  devoid  of 
all  trace  of  religion"  (Roskoff).  "A  people 

[216] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

destitute  of  all  religious  notions  has  never  been 
discovered"  (Reville).  "The  statement  that 
there  are  nations  or  tribes  which  possess  no 
religion,  rests  either  on  inaccurate  observation 
or  on  a  confusion  of  ideas"  (Tiele).  And 
Professor  Jastrow  goes  so  far  as  to  conclude 
from  a  survey  of  the  entire  field  of  history: 
"The  essence  of  true  religion  is  to  be  met  with 
in  the  earliest  manifestations  of  the  spiritual 
side  of  man's  nature"  ("A  Study  of  Religion," 
p.  132). 

Applying  this  fact  of  the  naturalness  and 
universality  of  belief  in  Other-spirit  and  Over- 
spirit  to  the  case  of  the  inquirer  into  the  ques- 
tion, What  should  /  believe?  in  the  religious 
sphere  of  life  and  of  conduct,  this  one  answer 
may  be  even  now  regarded  as  established. 
It  assumes  the  form  of  a  point  of  view,  from 
which  to  take  into  account  all  subsequent,  con- 
siderations  bearing  on  the  final  answer.  The 
man  who  has  no  religious  faith  is  to  this  extent 
—  and  the  extent  is  great  —  cut  off  from 
participation  in  that  "unity  of  the  human 
spirit,"  before  which,  in  "its  perpetually  similar 
features,  the  individual,  national,  or  even  racial 
differences  sink  into  insignificance." 

Enormous  differences  do,  however,  exist, 

[217] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

under  essentially  the  same  type  of  spiritual  life, 
in  the  different  forms  of  religious  belief;  —  and 
this,  not  only  with  regard  to  the  Object  of  this 
belief  as  constructed  by  the  intellect  and 
imagination  working  conjointly;  but  also  as  to 
all  the  more  important  corollaries  following, 
whether  quite  logically  or  not,  from  this  central 
truth.  On  the  side  of  the  humanity  of  religion 
we  may  gracefully  admit  that 

"In  even  savage  bosoms 
There  are  longings,  strivings,  yearnings, 
For  the  good  they  comprehend  not"; 

but  "the  scent  of  the  blossom  is  not  in  the 
bulb."  And  religious  belief  is,  above  all  other 
forms  of  human  belief,  both  obligated  and  able, 
through  its  own  special  form  of  development,  to 
establish  a  claim  to  be  regarded  as  a  divine  Self- 
revelation  by  the  seeker  after  a  reasonable  faith. 

It  would  be  impossible  for  us  in  this  little 
book  to  undertake  even  a  sketch  of  the  science 
of  comparative  religions  and  of  the  history  of 
the  religious  development  of  mankind.  But 
this  is  not  essential  to  the  intelligent  use  of 
"the  will  to  believe"  the  essential  truths  of 
religion;  even  less,  to  the  choice  which  com- 
mits the  entire  personal  life  and  the  issues  of 
its  unfolding,  to  a  reasonable  religious  faith. 

[218] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

There  are  two  convictions  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  Object  of  religious  faith,  and  as  to  the 
attitude  toward  this  Object  which  a  reasonable 
faith  involves,  that  may  be  borrowed  from  the 
study  with  which  in  the  present  connection  we 
are,  for  practical  purposes,  compelled  to  dis- 
pense. The  first  is  this:  The  rationality  o: 


this  Object  must  be  accepted  as  established  fo 
purposes  of  faith,  by  our  increasing  knowle 
of  the  facts  and  laws  of  the  physical  world,  b 
especially  of  the  personal  life  and  of  its  succes^r 
ful  spiritual  development.  The  second  convic-  i 
tion  is  that  which  Professor  Jastrow  has  so 
aptly  characterized  as  the  distinguishing  con- 
tribution of  the  Hebrew  prophets,  —  "the 
investiture  of  the  one  God  with  ethical  attri- 
JlUtfifiu"  To  this  Christianity  added  "the  scent 
of  the  blossom"  by  imparting  the  spiritual 
freedom  which  Jesus  had;  and  which  the  faith 
that  was  his,  and  is  "in  him,"  bestows  on  the 
"sons  of  God."  But  even  when  we  commend 
Christianity  to  ourselves  or  to  others,  as  placing 
under  obligation  the  wjj||  to  believe,  we  do  well 
to  remember  what  Augustine  said:  "Christian- 
_ity  is  a  river  in  which  a  lamb  may  walk,  while 
an  elephant  must  swim." 

We  have  already  rejected  the  demand  of 

[219] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Emerson,  if  made  literally  and  without  limita- 
tions, for  a  religion  which  is  science.  On  the 
other  hand,  no  man  can  understand  the  essence 
of  the  religious  consciousness,  or  the  influences 
which  have  worked  most  powerfully  in  the 
religious  evolution  of  the  race,  and,  as  well, 
the  enormous  effects  of  religion  itself  in  modify- 
ing all  the  other  factors  of  evolution,  without 
recognizing  the  fact  that  religious  faith  can  lay 
for  itself  sure  and  satisfying  foundations  for 
the  human  spirit  to  repose  upon,  only  as  it 
cherishes  an  intellectually  reasonable  belief. 
They  who  do  not  seek  for  the  elimination  of 
credulity  and  superstition  from  the  faiths  of 
religion  do  these  faiths  an  equal  wrong  with 
those  who  reject  them,  in  the  foolish  opinion 
that  they  are  all  themselves  no  better  than 
superstitions  adapted  to  deceive  the  credulous. 
In  religion,  unbelief  and  credulity  may  be  alike 
unreasonable. 

It  is  not,  then,  in  the  vain  hope  to  institute  a 
positive  science  of  religion,  such  as  physics  and 
astronomy  (although  not  always  on  altogether 
indisputable  proofs)  boast  of,  in  their  times  of 
confident  repose,  that  we  make  diligent  and 
serious  search  for  some  sound  kernels  of  knowl- 
edge about  the  world  and  about  ourselves,  in 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

which  to  discover  the  sources  of  a  reasonable 
religious  faith.  For  we  are  quite  determinedly 
opposed  to  the  conception  so  current  and  so 
seductive  to  unreflecting  minds,  which  would 
have  us  regard  the  beliefs  of  religion  as  essen- 
tially to  be  taken  in  the  form  of  "pap,"  pre- 
pared by  the  "Unknown"  for  sensitive  nerves 
and  weak  digestions,  rather  than  as  strong  meat 
fed  from  the  divine  hand  to  those  who  crave 
nourishment  that  shall  fit  them  for  the  intellec- 
tual  as  well  as  moral  struggles  of  the  present 
life.  And  if  we  are  told  that  in  fact,  religion 
has  always  been,  because  it  essentially  is,  a 
matter  of  vague  fears  and  hopes  and  other 
emotional  stirrings,  which  man  shares  at  first 
with  the  lower  animals,  and  which  he  must 
throw  off  in  order  to  become  rational,  we  flatly 
deny  the  statement.  The  beliefs  of  religion, 
even  among  the  lowest  savages,  have  been  born 
of  reflection.  They  are  explanations  of  experi- 
ences  in  this  world  of  sense  by  reference  to  an  in- 
visible and  spiritual  world.  For  savages  are  not 
without  keen  powers  of  reflection,  are  not  in- 
capable of  subtle  analyses  and  of  far-reaching 
inferences.  Indeed,  one  is  tempted  to  think 
that  in  these  respects  they  excel  large  numbers 
of  those  who  constitute  the  most  favored  social 

[221] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

circles;  not  to  say,  an  occasional  modern 
ethnologist  or  psychologist.  Nor  is  this  to  be 
wondered  at,  for  in  its  origin  and  growth, 
religion  is  as  rational  as  science  is. 

This  "kernel  of  belief,"  out  of  which  grow 
the  intellectual  elements  of  highly  developed 
religious  faith,  has  been  suggestively  spoken  of 
by  Carlyle  as  what  every  man  should  have 
respecting  "his  vital  relations  to  the  Universe, 
his  duty,  and  destiny  there."  As  Otfried 
Miiller  says  of  the  Etruscans :  "Divinity  seemed 
to  them  a  world  of  life."  Or,  to  quote  Carlyle 
again:  "The  thing  a  man  does  practically 
believe  (and  this  is  often  enough  without  assert- 
ing it  to  himself,  much  less  to  others);  the 
thing  a  man  does  practically  lay  to  heart,  and 
know  for  certain  concerning  his  vital  relations 
to  the  mysterious  Universe,  and  his  duty  and 
destiny  there,  that  is  in  all  cases  the  primary 
thing  for  him,  and  creatively  determines  all  the 
rest.  That  is  his  religion." 

But  in  all  the  nature-religions,  especially  in 
the  lower  forms  (and  the  history  of  the  develop- 
ment of  all  the  greater  religions,  including  that 
of  the  Old  Testament,  discovers  certain  of 
their  roots  in  nature-worship)  the  Universe  is 
not  conceived  of  in  a  way  to  invite,  or  even  to 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

make  possible,  a  reasonable  religious  faith. 
Its  own  spiritual  nature  is  divided,  torn  asunder 
between  contending  spirits,  some  having  a 
certain  good-will  toward  some  men  and  others 
hostile  to  those  to  whom  their  divine  rivals  are 
friendly;  or  else  hated  and  hateful  to  all.  All 
the  spirits,  of  air  and  water  and  earth  and  of 
the  underground  world,  are  jealous  of  their 
own  interests,  selfish  in  their  exactions  of 
offerings  and  libations,  fitful  and  capricious  in 
their  attitudes  toward  those  who  most  faith- 
fully worship  them.  Among  these  spirits  are 
those  of  man's  departed  ancestors.  For  ances- 
tor-worship is  found  almost,  if  not  quite  uni- 
versally combined  with  nature-worship  in  all 
the  earlier  stages  of  man's  religious  evolution. 
The  two  become  more  or  less  "amalgamated." 
This  "amalgamation"  of  the  two  kinds  of 
spirits,  in  the  belief  and  worship  of  which  the 
earlier  forms  of  religion  as  known  from  histori- 
cal  sources  consist,  is  illustrated  by  the  case 
of  the  Semites  according  to  the  following 
description  borrowed  from  a  student  of  the 
subject.  "The  primitive  Semitic  community 
was  thought  by  them  to  be  made  up  of  gods, 
men,  and  animals,  all  of  which  were  akin  to 
one  another.  The  gods  were  confined  each  to 

f  223  1 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

his  own  tribe  or  clan,  and  in  their  activities 
were  limited  to  certain  localities.  ...  In  this 
chthonic  period  they  were  especially  associated 
with  springs,  wells,  and  trees,  and  were  re- 
garded as  the  proprietors  of  naturally  watered 
land.  The  bond  between  them  and  their 
worshippers  was  thought  to  be  one  of  physical 
kinship,  and  was  believed  to  be  renewed  by 
sacrifice." 

Of  course,  all  these  elements  which  entered 
into  the  jumbled  conception  of  the  invisible 
world  as  full  of  spirits,  differed  among  different 
peoples  in  dependence  on  the  physical  character 
of  their  environment  and  upon  the  cruder  or 
more  elaborate  form  of  their  domestic,  tribal, 
and  national  relations.  But  everywhere,  the 
Universe  was  conceived  of  as  divided  against 
itself,  and  its  spiritual  agencies  as  truly  divided 
in  their  attitudes  toward  individual  men  and 
toward  each  individual  in  dependence  upon 
passing  moods  and  selfish  considerations.  Such 
a  Universe  could  not  possibly  call  forth  implicit 
trust,  active  affection,  loyal  and  self-sacrificing 
obedience. 

But  even  many  centuries  ago,  a  "kernel  of 
belief"  which  could  serve  for  evoking  a  genu- 
inely  devout  and  reasonable  faith  was  forming 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

in  certain  divinely  endowed  and  inspired 
minds;  and  this  not  among  the  Hebrews  alone: 
or,  beyond  Judea,  chiefly  among  the  Chinese 
under  the  influence  of  Confucian  ideas.  Some 
one  of  the  greater  heavenly  bodies,  or  some 
of  the  more  impressive  of  the  natural  forces, 
or  some  one  of  the  more  distinguished  of  the 
ancestral,  tribal,  or  national  divinities,  might 
be  selected,  and  endowed  with  the  higher  per- 
sonal and  spiritual  qualities,  by  imagination 
working  at  the  task  of  fanPlllfif  ftfri  Object 
worthy  of  trust,  affection,  and  devoted  service. 
Numerous  facts  bear  witness  to  the  existence 
of  such  experiences  of  faith.  Thus  the  eighty- 
fourth  prayer  of  the  Orphic  hymns  runs: 
"Render  us  always  prosperous,  always  happy, 
O  Fire;  Thou  who  art  eternal,  beautiful,  and 
young."  In  the  "Book  of  the  Dead,"  Osiris 
proclaims  himself,  saying:  "I  am  the  maker  of 
the  heaven  and  the  earth.  ...  It  is  I  that 
have  given  all  the  gods  the  soul  that  is  within 
them."  Away  back  in  the  darkness  of  almost 
prehistoric  times  we  may  listen  to  whisperings 
of  consolation,  or  to  the  cries  for  moral  vindi- 
cation, in  the  prayers  of  faith  uttered  by  those 
who  knew  only  the  God  whom  their  thought 
and  imagination,  helped  by  the  Spirit  of  Him 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

whom  they  worshipped,  had  been  able  to  pre- 
sent to  the  eye  of  faith.  So  in  the  "Maxims 
of  Ani,"  we  read:  "Pray  humbly  with  a  loving 
heart  all  the  words  of  which  are  uttered  in  secret. 
God  will  protect  thee  in  thine  affairs."  On 
papyri  in  the  British  Museum  is  recorded  the 
faith  of  pious  souls,  unknown  to  us  and  of  the 
most  ancient  of  the  recorded  dead,  who  could 
pray:  "O  my  God  and  Lord,  thou  hast  made 
me  and  formed  me:  give  me  an  eye  to  see 
and  an  ear  to  hear  thy  glories."  Or,  again: 
"Hail  to  thee,  Amon  Ra,  Lord  of  the  thrones 
of  the  earth.  .  .  .  Deliverer  of  the  timid  man 
from  the  violent,  judging  the  poor,  the  poor 
and  the  oppressed.  Lord  of  wisdom,  whose 
precepts  are  wise.  .  .  .  Lord  of  mercy,  most 
loving,  at  whose  coming  men  live."  The  greatest 
of  all  Egyptian  monarchs,  Rameses  II,  when  in 
sore  distress  poured  forth  the  prayer  of  faith: 
"Who,  then,  art  thou,  O  my  father  Amon! 
Doth  a  father  forget  his  son?  Surely  a  wretched 
lot  awaiteth  him  who  opposes  thy  will;  but 
blessed  is  he  that  knoweth  thee,  for  thy  deeds 
proceed  from  a  heart  of  love."  And  he  who,  per- 
haps, in  our  Sunday-school  days  was  represented 
to  us  as  a  monster  of  impiety,  has  left  on  record 
the  prayer  of  his  faith  in  his  god,  Marduk: 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

"According  to  thy  mercy,  O  Lord,  which  thou  bestowest  upon 

all, 

Cause  me  to  love  thy  supreme  rule, 
Implant  the  fear  of  thy  divinity  within  my  heart, 
Grant  to  me  whatsoever  may  seem  good  before  thee 
Since  it  is  thou  that  dost  control  my  life." 

But  these  instances  of  genuine  religious  faith 
toward  the  indwelling  and  controlling  Spirit 
of  which  the  Universe,  as  known  by  sensuous 
experience,  is  the  revealer,  with  the  union  of 
trust,  affection  and  devotion  which  are  the 
essential  elements  of  such  a  faith,  are  rare 
„  indeed,  as  long  as  the  current  notions  of  this 
Universe  remain  unchanged  by  the  advances 
of  science  and  philosophy.  In  a  word,  the 
knowledge  of  what  the  world  really  is  must 
reveal  the  essential  nature  of  the  Spirit  that  is 
in  it,  before  the  development  of  a  reasonable 
religious  faith  is  possible.  It  is  scientific 
observation  and  reflective  thinking  which 
greaten  and  make  more  worthy  the  Object  of 
religious  belief  on  its  more  purely  intellectual 
side.  Science  does  not  give  us  a  religion 
which  is  science;  but  it  does  provide  us  with  a 
conception  of  the  world  which  makes  more 
reasonable  and  morally  worthy  the  attitude, 
toward  that  World,  of  religious  faith.  Philoso- 
phy does  not  give  us  a  speculative  system  of 

[227] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

dogmatic  religion,  or  even  a  strictly  demon- 
strable conception  of  the  Universe  as  itself 
Universal  Reason.  The  Absolute  of  specula- 
tive thinking  cannot  be  substituted  for  the 
Object  of  religious  faith  (subjectively  con- 
sidered). Even  less  does  philosophy  provide  a 
scheme  of  abstract  thinking  which  will  afford 
all  the  emotional  and  practical  satisfactions  of 
a  religious  faith  (objectively  considered).  But, 
since  its  method  is  reflective  thinking,  and  its 
sphere  is  the  entire  complex  of  both  things  and 
men,  philosophy  does  help  to  present  to  the 
intellect  a  Universe  of  a  more  gloriously  elevated 
and  rationally  unified  type.  And  such  a 
Universe  is  surely  better  fitted  to  elicit  the 
confidences  of  a  well-balanced  intellect  than  is 
the  world  as  conceived  of  in  terms  of  any  of 
the  nature-religions. 

We  have  already  seen  what  sort  of  a  concep- 
tion of  the  world  as  a  Cosmos,  or  orderly  and 
beautiful  system  in  which  a  vast  variety  of 
seemingly  heterogeneous  and  contending  things 
and  conflicting  forces  are,  as  the  phrase  is, 
"made  to  listen  to  reason,"  has  come  to  be  the 
crowning  belief  and  sleeping  postulate  of  the 
modern  sciences.  We  do  not  need  to  repeat 
the  argument.  We  may  appeal  to  the  fact  as 

i 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

on  the  whole  favorable  to  the  intellectual  side 
of  the  beliefs  of  religion.  It  is  no  longer  re- 
quired  of  the  man  who  would  assume  and  make 
practical  the  religious  view  of  the  physical 
JJni verse  that  he  shall  people  it,  everywhere 
and  at  all  times,  with  a  heterogeneous  and 
contending  crowd  of  invisible  spiritual  agencies, 
which  he  will  do  well  either  to  placate  or  to 
avoid.  But  science  has  not  driven  the  Spiritual 
clean  out  of  the  World  of  Space  and  Time;  or 
quite  back  of  the  World  in  Time,  to  the  position 
of  an  original  Creator,  but  now  no  longer  needed 
Presence  and  Power.  On  the  contrary,  science 
has  somewhat  more  clearly  revealed  the  nature 
of  that  Spirit  who  is  the  World's  indwelling 
Mind  and  Will. 

According  to  Martineau,  religion  is  "belief 
in  a  supreme  Mind  and  Will."  While  the 
fuller  definition  which  Pfleiderer  derives  from 
a  life-long  study  of  its  history  runs:  "Rehgipn 
is  the  reference  of  man's  life  to  the  World- 
governing  Power,  —  a  reference  which  seeks  to 
grow  into  a  living  union  with  it."  Now,  the 
last  phrase  of  this  definition  adds  something 
which  is  not  precisely,  by  any  means,  the  same 
thing  as  intellectual  belief.  To  the  more 
purely  mental  attitude  of  "reference,"  the 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

"growing  into  a  living  union  "  with  the  "  World- 
governing  Power"  adds  something  of  a  more 
intimate  relation  of  heart  and  will.  It  is  this 
addition  which  converts  belief  about  God  into 
an  active  faith  in  God.  It  is,  however,  of  the 
contributions  of  science  to  the  reasonableness 
of  religion  as  an  intellectual  belief  of  which  we 
are  now  speaking. 

We  are  well  aware  that  there  are  numerous 
students  of  the  physical,  chemical  and  biologi- 
cal sciences,  —  and  a  few  of  this  number,  that 
have  made  notable  contributions  to  these 
sciences  —  who  are  ready  to  contend  that 
science  has  either  destroyed  or  greatly  impaired 
the  foundations  of  the  intellectual  belief  in 
God.  But  this  is  not  the  position  of  most  of 
the  best  of  such  students.  They  are  greatly 
tempted,  as  are  (more  basely)  large  numbers 
of  the  theologians  and  of  the  clergy,  to  relegate 
even  the  intellectual  beliefs  of  Christianity, 
and  a  fortiori  of  all  the  other  religions,  to  the 
domain  of  mere  feeling;  or  to  the  judgment  of 
the  court  in  which  the  Pragmatist  decides 
promptly  the  question,  Is  it  true?  by  his 
prejudices  as  to  the  often  much  more  difficult 
question,  Will  it  work?  But  we  may  still  refer 
to  an  ever-increasing  number  of  the  most 

[230] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

thoughtful  who  are  ready  to  affirm  with  the 
late  Lord  Kelvin:  " Overpoweringly  strong 
proofs  of  intelligent  and  benevolent  design  lie 
around  us;  and  if  ever  perplexities— whether 
metaphysical  or  scientific  —  turn  us  away  from 
them  for  a  time,  they  come  back  upon  us  with 
irresistible  power,  showing  to  us  the  influence 
of  a  Free- Will  through  nature,  and  teaching 
us  that  all  things  depend  on  one  Everlasting 
Creator  and  Ruler"  (as  quoted  in  the  Monist, 
No.  I,  1906,  p.  31). 

The  whole  history  of  philosophy,  as  a  record 
of  the  attempts  which  the  human  mind  has 
made  to  comprehend  the  World  by  the  method 
of  reflective  thinking,  and  the  progress  which 
has  crowned  these  efforts  in  the  persons  and 
doctrines  of  the  foremost  philosophers  and  of 
their  immediate  or  remoter  followers,  shows 
us  that  philosophy  and  the  intellectual  side  of 
the  beliefs  of  religion,  have  quite  uniformly 
advanced  in  relations  of  dependence  each  upon 
the  other,  or  of  common  consent  to  the  same 
great  truths.  The  greater  problems  of  religion 
and  those  of  philosophy  are  the  same.  From 
both  points  of  view,  the  religious  and  the 
philosophical,  the  answers  given  to  these 
problems  profoundly  influence  religion  as  a  life. 

[231] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Whence  do  I  come?  or,  Who  is  the  author  of 
my  being?  What  are  the  essential  relations  in 
which  I  must  stand,  and  what  are  those  other 
relations  in  which  I  ought  to  stand,  toward 
this  source  of  my  being,  as  well  as  toward  my 
fellow  men?  What  is  to  be  my  destiny,  and 
what  is  it  necessary  for  me  to  do  and  to  be,  in 
order  best  to  realize  this  destiny?  —  such  are 
some  of  the  questions  which,  whether  we  call 
them  questions  of  religious  belief  or  questions 
of  philosophy,  are  essentially  the  same  and 
must  be  answered  in  essentially  the  same  way. 
This  position  is  not  particularly  affected  by  the 
appeal  to  revelation  or  inspiration  as,  telling 
against  reason,  on  the  side  of  faith:  for  the  same 
reason  is  the  organ  of  revelation,  the  inspired  of 
inspiration;  and  the  faith  which  it  produces 
and  which  reposes  in  it  seeks  ever  to  become  a 
more  reasonable  faith. 

"Reason"  says  Kant,  toward  the  close  of 
his  "Transcendental  Dialectic,"  where  his 
scepticism  culminates  in  the  attempt  to  remove 
knowledge  in  order  to  make  room  for  faith;  — 
"Reason,  constantly  strengthened  by  the  power- 
ful arguments  that  come  to  hand  by  them- 
selves, though  they  are  no  doubt  empirical  only, 
cannot  be  discouraged  by  any  doubts  of  subtle 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

and  abstract  speculation.  Roused  from  every 
inquisitive  indecision,  as  from  a  dream,  by  one 
glance  at  the  wonders  of  nature  and  the  majesty 
of  the  Cosmos,  reason  soars  from  height  to 
height,  until  it  reaches  the  highest,  from  the 
conditioned  to  conditions,  till  it  reaches  the 
supreme  and  unconditioned  Author  of  all." 
But  according  to  Kant,  at  the  "highest,"  what 
reason  actually  finds  and  grasps  is  only  an 
"Idea,"  —  transcendental  indeed  and  having 
the  force  and  authority  of  a  principle  to  regulate 
the  intellect,  but  affording  no  trustworthy 
knowledge  of  the  Reality  which  is  assumed  to 
correspond  to  this  idea.  As  has  been  pointed 
out  in  a  previous  volume  of  this  series  ("Knowl- 
edge and  Reality,"  Chapter  IX  of  "What  Can 
I  Know?"),  this  sceptical  attitude  toward  the 
central  conception  of  religion  is  equally  effective 
for  the  destruction  of  all  the  claims  of  all  the 
positive  sciences  to  give  us  any  knowledge  of 
the  real  World,  with  the  phenomena  of  which 
they  imagine  that  they  are  busying  themselves. 
Indeed,  carried  to  its  legitimate  limit,  such 
scepticism  makes  all  knowledge  and  all  com- 
munication of  knowledge  impossible  and  absurd. 
We  must  recognize,  then,  the  position  and  the 
indispensable  value  of  intellectual  belief  in  the 

[233] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

attempt  of  religion  to  construct  for  faith  a 
reasonable  conception  of  the  invisible,  spiritual 
Presence  that  is  revealed  in  the  world  of  sense, 
in  essentially  the  same  way  in  which  we  found 
ourselves  compelled  to  recognize  a  similar 
intellectual  belief  as  the  crowning  achievement 
and  productive  postulate  of  the  positive 
sciences. 

It  is  not  true,  then,  that  the  faiths  of  religion 
come  by  the  way  of  "a  faculty  of  acquiring 
knowledge  which  has  no  rapport  with  our 
normal  faculties  of  that  kind."  Getting  faith 
does  indeed  involve  gifts  of  intuition;  but  they 
are  not  a  species  of  magical  clairvoyance  like 
that  which  the  Zulu  medicine  men  employ  in 
what  they  call  "opening  the  gates  of  distance." 
On  the  contrary,  there  is  a  most  notable  resem- 
blance between  the  scientific  belief  in  a  Uni- 
verse of  rational  order,  with  a  wonderful  but 
mysterious  majesty,  having  the  beauty  of 
sublimity,  and  the  conception  of  a  World 
created  and  controlled  by  immanent  and 
omnipresent  Spirit,  as  imagination  and  reflective 
thinking  have  prepared  this  conception  to  be 
the  Object  of  religious  belief. 

When,  along  the  line  of  the  development  of 
the  nature-religions,  under  the  guidance  of  a 

[234] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

growing  knowledge  of  the  physical  world,  and 
by  the  pressure  of  the  needs  of  the  human 
soul,  the  personification  and  deification  of  the 
Sun,  and  his  exaltation  to  the  place  of  Supreme 
Lord  of  the  earth  and  Father  of  the  faithful, 
take  place,  even  this  does  not  prove  satisfying 
to  the  mind  that  craves  a  well-founded  con- 
ception of  the  Object  of  religious  belief.  The 
genuine  religious  faith  of  the  devout  soul  in 
his  God,  Osiris,  Amon,  Marduk,  or  Yahveh, 
requires  something  more.  According  to  a 
story  which  has  the  marks  of  authenticity, 
one  of  the  Incas  could  say:  "I  tell  you  there 
must  be  a  greater  and  more  mighty  Lord  above 
our  father,  the  Sun,  who  orders  him  to  take 
the  course  he  follows  day  by  day." 

But,  as  we  have  already  seen,  the  scientific 
belief  which  dominates  the  conception  of  the 
World  current  at  the  present  time,  is  not  born 
wholly  of  intellectual  parentage.  ^Esthetical 
and  at  least  gwasi-ethical  considerations  have 
something  to  say  in  its  formation  and  in  its 
support,  when  it  is  called  in  question  by  scep- 
ticism or  by  a  quite  rigid  criticism.  For  the 
"scientist"  is  also  a  man,  is  primarily  a  man; 
and  being  a  man,  he  is  an  artist  and  recognizes, 
however  faintly  or  unconsciously,  the  presence 

[235] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

and  the  worth,  in  the  world  of  things,  of  certain 
resemblances  to  his  sesthetical  and  moral 
ideals. 

The  very  nature  of  religious  faith,  however, 
is  to  lean  much  more  heavily  than  does  either 
science  or  philosophy,  upon  the  emotional 
stirrings  and  practical  needs  of  the  human 
spirit.  And  it  is  these  emotions  and  needs  in 
which  the  imperative  calls  for  religious  faith 
more  patently  consist.  No  other  of  the  several 
complex  relations  which  every  individual  sus- 
tains in  some  degree  toward  the  world  of  things 
and  of  men,  so  completely  and  so  intensely 
involves  the  entire  soul  as  do  the  relations 
belonging  to  the  religious  life. 

"A  preliminary  analysis  of  man's  religious 
consciousness  can  only  prepare  the  way  and 
classify  the  material,  for  a  subsequent  detailed 
consideration  of  the  different  active  factors 
which  enter  into  his  total  religious  experience. 
But  even  a  preliminary  analysis  must  be 
guided  by  one  assumption  which  the  detailed 
consideration  will  amply  confirm.  This  assump- 
tion may  be  stated  in  the  following  terms: 
Religion  has  its  psychological  sources  in  every 
important  form  of  the  functioning  of  the  human 
soul.  //  is  man  in  his  entirety,  who  is  the 

[236] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

maker  of  religion.  .Every  factor  of  his  complex 
being  enters  into  his  religious  life  and  religious 
development.  The  unconscious  or  —  to  use 

-B(>B««fc»M«»Mi«JkB»»«BM«B«MMii««»B««BB""B"MB"B«"«"«««"«*«*"""«"""""""""i"*"^""'i* 

a  much  abused  term  of  modern  psychology — 
the  'subliminal'  influences  are  present  and 
potent  factors.  The  lower  impulses  and  emo- 
tional  stirrings  solicit  or  impel  him  to  be 
religious.  His  social  instincts  or  more  intelli- 
gent social  desires  and  aims  co-operate  in  the 
same  result.  The  uplift  to  that  condition  of 
rational  faith  which  corresponds  to  the  ideal 
adjustment  of  the  human  Self  to  the  Divine 
Self  is  effected  largely  through  the  awakening 
and  employment  of  the  higher,  or  sesthetical 
and  ethical  sentiments.  Human  intelligence  — 
beginning  with  that  instinctive  intellectual 
curiosity  which  leads  man  to  try  to  explain 
things  to  himself,  and  himself  to  his  own  Self, 
in  naive  and  childlike  fashion,  and  ending  with 
the  most  lofty  speculative  flights  of  the  trained 
reflective  reason  —  is  committed  to  the  cause 
of  religious  development.  Without  his  meta- 
physical nature,  his  ontological  consciousness, 
man  would  neither  be  scientific  nor  religious; 
much  less  would  science  and  religion  find  sub- 
jects for  controversy  or  for  friendly  discussion. 
And  the  voluntary  and  practical  adjustments 

[2371 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

of  himself  to  that  Other  and  Absolute  Self,  in 
whose  Being  he  comes  to  believe  his  own  being 
to  be  somehow  comprehended,  is  the  *  heart  of 
the  heart'  of  man's  religious  life.  That  the 
finite  will  should  be  brought  into  harmony  with 
the  Infinite  Will,  and  man's  activities  rightly 
attuned  to  the  active  Being  of  the  World  in 
which  he  lives,  is  even  more  definitely  the  aim 
of  religion  than  it  is  the  aim  of  science;  and  this 
appears  true  whenever  both  religion  and  science 
come  to  understand  their  truest  and  highest 
mission. 

"Feeling,  and  every  form  of  feeling;  intel- 
lect, and  every  aspect  and  phase  of  intellect; 
will,  and  every  species  of  the  voluntary  and 
deliberately  chosen  course  of  conduct;  —  all 
these  enter,  as  integral  and  reciprocally  related 
'moments,'  into  the  religious  experience.  For 
religion  in  man  is  nothing  less  than  man  himself 
considered  in  his  total  being  with  respect  to  its 
manifold  relations  toward  one  of  the  most 
complex  and  comprehensive  ends  of  all  life  and 
all  development. 

"This  unqualified  manner  of  asserting  the 
comprehensive  character  of  the  religious  factors 
in  the  psychical  being  of  man,  receives  con- 
firmation from  all  the  attempts  which  have 

[238] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

been  made  to  reduce  these  factors  to  one,  two, 
or  three  selected  forms  of  mental  reactions. 
Such  attempts  have  inevitably  resulted  in 
failure,  so  far  as  their  positive  contentions  are 
concerned.  But  they  have,  when  taken  to- 
gether, shown  what  a  rich  endowment  in  the 
religious  domain  belongs  to  the  soul  of  man. 
For  the  attempts  not  only  correct  the  exclusive- 
ness  of  one  another;  they  also  supplement  one 
another  in  such  a  way  as  to  show  that  each  one 
of  them  has  truth,  but  by  no  means  all  the 
truth,  on  its  side."  ("Philosophy  of  Religion," 
Vol.  I,  pp.- 262  ff.). 

If  now  we  turn  to  the  impulses  and  emotional 
sources  of  the  faith  in  an  ever-living  God,  we 
realize  the  truth  of  the  declaration  of  Novalis 
that  the  "heart  is  the  organ  of  religion,"  — 
meaning  by  this,  religion  as  that  attitude  of 
perfect  trust,  love  and  obedience,  which  is 
religion,  in  its  complete  and  supreme  subjective 
expression.  The  impulse  toward  this  attitude 
may  be  detected  in  that  sense  of  unrest,  of 
dissatisfaction  with  the  present  world,  with 
present  mental  and  moral  attainments,  and  with 
the  prevalent  social  conditions,  which  forms  the 
source  of  all  human  progress  and  all  human 
effort.  "All  religion,"  said  Humboldt,  "rests 

[239] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

on  a  need  of  the  soul;    we  hope,  we  dread, 
because  we  wish." 

But  to  say  that  "fear  first  made  the  gods," 
and  fear  alone,  is  to  contradict  the  plainest 

facts  of  man's  religious  development.  Espe- 
cially in  ancestor-worship  is  there  a  longing  for 
the  continuance  in  the  spirit-world  of  those 
relations  of  confidence  and  affection  which 
have  characterized  the  most  agreeable,  satis- 
factory, and  practically  helpful  of  human 
relations  in  the  world  of  sense.  The  heart  of 
man  would  gladly  transfer  these  relations  into 
the  invisible  world;  and  not  only  with  his 
deified  ancestors,  but  with  as  many  as  possible 
of  the  more  benignant  and  companionable  of 
the  other  heavenly  powers.  Why  should  he 
not,  then,  invite  them  to  his  times  of  friendly 
feasting,  that  they  may,  though  unseen  by  the 
eye  of  sense,  by  their  spiritual  presence  grace 
the  board?  And  when  he  has  attained  to  the 
higher  and  more  reasonable  forms  of  religious 
faith,  and  feels  strong  within  him  the  desire 
for  communion  with  the  Alone  God,  he  prays 
to  Him  as  his  Heavenly  Father  for  the  gift  of 
"Daily  bread,"  and  gives  thanks  for  that  and 
every  other  good  thing  as  received  by  faith  from 
the  benevolent  divine  hand. 
[240] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

Feelings  of  admiration,  of  wonder,  and  of 
reverent  awe,  also  impel  the  mind  and  heart 
to  faith  in  God.  There  is  no  other  sure  refuge 
for  the  individual  against  the  ills  that  are 
always  threatening  to  proceed  from  the  Nature 
that  he  cannot  control,  and  from  his  fellow 
men  of  evil  mind,  except  that  which  is  to  be 
found  in  making  his  God  his  invulnerable 
fortress  and  rock  of  defence. 

But  the  higher  emotions  and  practical  needs 
of  the  human  spirit  as  rational  and  free  are  the 
springs  from  which  flow  inexhaustibly  forth 
the  loving  faith  in  a  faithful  Heavenly  Father 
and  God  of  love.  "  Th.fi 


the  world,"  said  Pascal,  "is  the  last  bond 
which  binds  the  (otherwise)  non-pious  man  to 
God."  It  is  the  last,  in  the  sense  of  being 
the  profoundest  and  most  powerful  of  the 
ties  which  unite  mankind  —  the  individual  and 
the  race  —  to  that  perfect  Moral  Spirit,  com- 
munion with  whom,  in  the  confidences  of 
faith,  can  alone  satisfy  the  spirit  of  man. 
This  fact  is  to  be  explained  only  on  the  ad- 
mission that  man  is  himself  a  spirit  and  so 
capable  of  developing  a  spiritual  life.  He  is 
then  following  the  path  of  personal  perfection 
after  the  pattern  of  the  "divine  image"  in 

[241] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

which  he  is  being  made,  if  he  is  following  the 
path  of  faith. 

It  was  Judaism  alone  among  the  religions  of 
the  ancient  world,  that,  by  the  mouth  of  its 
prophets,  proclaimed  such  a  conception  of 
God  as  to  make  reasonable  for  the  enlightened 
mind  the  attitude  toward  Him  of  an  ethical 
and  spiritual  love.  To  identify  the  feelings  of 
affection  toward  the  "Heavenly  Father,"  by 
whatever  other  name  called,  as  they  have 
occasionally  been  exhibited  by  those  holding 
the  beliefs  of  all  of  the  greater  religions  of  the 
world,  with  the  sexual  emotion  of  love,  is 
seriously  to  misinterpret  the  facts  of  history. 
Neither  can  it  be  credibly  said  that  this  emo- 
tion supplies  the  explanatory  source  of  the  reli- 
gious feeling  called  by  the  same  name.  The 
"natural"  source  of  the  love  of  man  for  his 
god  is  rather  to  be  found  in  the  broader  and 
less  sensuous  relations  of  kinship  and  friendship. 
It  was  from  Judaism  that  Christianity  inherited 
the  conception  of  a  God  who,  being  himself 
"Holy,"  demanded  of  all  those  who  would  enter 
into  the  covenant  of  faith  with  Him,  the  being 
themselves  also  holy  as  perpetually  purified  by 
the  faith  that  worked  upon  the  life  through 
the  power  of  an  ethical  and  spiritual  love. 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

The  spiritually  improved  conception  of  the 
"Being  of  the  World,"  which  fits  it  to  be  the 
object  of  trust,  of  ethical  love,  and  loving 
obedience,  is  not,  indeed,  confined  to  Judaism 
and  to  Christianity  as  its  successor  in  this  line 
of  religious  development.  Something  of  it  — 
and  in  not  a  few  individual  instances,  some- 
thing large  and  grand  and  morally  purifying  — 
is  to  be  found  in  the  higher  developments  of 
the  nature-religions  and  in  ancestor- worship. 
It  is  to  be  found  among  the  Chinese  in  the 
Confucian  conception  of  Heaven,  and  in  the 
personal  attitude  toward  Heaven  as  Lord  of 
the  life  of  the  individual  and  of  the  nation, 
(Shang  Ti,  or  T'ien)  in  certain  devotees  of 
Confucianism.  Its  existence  among  the  wor- 
shippers of  the  Sun-god,  as  Supreme  Lord  and 
Father  to  the  soul  which  by  faith  becomes  his 
son,  has  already  been  noted  in  ancient  Egypt 
and  Babylonia.  To  a  still  greater  extent, 
perhaps,  has  it  emerged  in  the  various  con- 
ceptions of  Buddha  as  the  Merciful  (Amida- 
Buddha),  the  Lord  of  Life  and  Saviour  of  men. 
But  it  is  in  Christianity  as  the  religion  of  Jesus, 
and  in  Christian  Theism,  that  we  find,  far 
more  than  in  any  of  the  other  of  the  world's 
religions,  the  conception  of  nature  as  an  orderly 

[243] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

system  of  forces  and  laws,  expanding  in  such  a 
way  as  to  furnish  the  more  adequate  personal 
satisfactions  with  regard  to  the  inner  spiritual 
content  of  nature  when  the  spirit  of  man 
assumes  toward  it  the  attitude  of  faith. 
"Doubtless,"  says  the  greatest  of  the  Hebrew 
prophets,  —  "Doubtless  thou  art  our  Father, 
O  Yahveh;  thou  art  our  Father,  our  Redeemer." 
The  attitude  of  Christian  faith  reposes  in  the 
confidence  that  it  is  so. 

More  even  than  in  the  case  of  the  complex 
and  half-mysterious  faiths  of  morality,  is  it 
true  of  the  faiths  of  religion,  that  the  evidence 
which  establishes  their  claims  and  puts  the 
will  of  the  individual  under  obligation  to  them, 
is  the  experience  of  the  faiths  themselves. 
Studied  in  a  comprehensive,  historical  way, 
the  evolution  of  this  experience  is  the  problem 
of  the  philosophy  of  religion.  The  main  facts 
are  unmistakable.  There  has  been  an  evolu- 
tion of  religion,  regarded  both  as  doctrine  to 
which  intellectual  belief  is  invited  to  attach 
itself,  and  also  as  an  experience  of  the  moral 
and  spiritual,  as  well  as  social  benefits,  of 
religious  faith.  Described  in  somewhat  un- 
couth and  over-abstract  way,  we  may  use  the 
phrase  "God-consciousness"  for  this  experi- 

[244] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

ence.  The  complex  religious  thoughts,  feelings 
and  doings  of  the  race,  and  especially  of 
its  leaders  and  teachers,  have  resulted  in  a 
continuous  process  of  the  evolution  of  this 
so-called  "God-consciousness."  With  his  cus- 
tomary grand  style  Rothe,  in  his  Christliche 
Ethik  (II,  p.  257  f .)  maintains  that  the  religious 
consciousness  as  involving  the  generic  likeness 
of  man  to  God  (the  so-called  "God-conscious- 
ness") affords  a  picture  of  the  world  by  faith, 
which  is  a  fragmentary  and  partial,  but  really 
valid  representation  of  the  World  as  known  to 
God.  By  faith  man  has  a  divinely  imparted 
apprehension  of  the  World  in  its  relation  to 
God,  —  as  God's  world,  that  is;  and  so,  as  the 
World  appears  to  God  himself. 

We  need  not  claim  strict  scientific  accuracy, 
much  less  demonstrative  certainty,  for  this 
picture  of  the  world  as  it  appears  to  the  eye  of 
religious  faith.  We  cannot  do  this  for  any 
form  of  either  moral  or  religious  belief.  We 
cannot  do  this  for  the  modern  theistic  or  con- 
ventional Christian  belief  in  a  wholly  righteous 
and  graciously  redeeming  God.  To  do  this 
would  be  the  destruction  of  the  attitude  of 
faith.  But  this  attitude  is  itself,  and  in  its 
essential  nature,  an  affirmation  of  the  existence 

[245] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

of  God  as  the  object  of  the  soul's  trust,  affec- 
tion, and  devoted  service.  It  includes  belief 
in  God  as  Author,  Preserver,  and  Redeemer,  of 
the  personal  life  of  the  individual  who  has  and 
makes  practical  use  of  the  faith. 

Suppose,  however,  that  one  who  is  exhorted 
to  have  for  himself  and  by  an  act  of  will,  this 
faith  in  a  living  God,  pleads,  as  well  he  may, 
the  difficulty  of  choosing  amidst  the  endless 
variety  of  the  conceptions  which  attempt  to 
picture  more  precisely  the  Object  required  by 
faith,  and  the  obscurity  which  hangs  over  the 
face  of  the  picture  as  it  is  drawn  by  any  particu- 
lar religion;  and  yet  more  if  we  try  to  construct 
a  "composite  photograph"  from  them  all. 
Is  it  not,  indeed,  an  unanswerable  objection  to 
every  attempt  at  a  reasonable  religious  faith, 
that  every  man  makes  for  himself  a  picture  of 
^jhe  Divine  Being  out  of  material  most  accessible 
or  most  agreeable  to  him;  and  that  these  works 
of  human  imagination  are  all  alike  tainted  by 
the  inevitable  mistakes  and  vices  of  an  un- 
avoidable "anthropomorphism"?  In  a  word, 
man  inevitably  makes  his  god  in  his  own 
(that  is,  in  man's)  image.  All  gods  —  those  of 
the  greater  religions,  of  Buddhism,  Moham- 
medanism, and  even  of  Christianity,  as  well  as 
[246] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

of  the  lowest  nature-religions  and  of  ancestor- 
worship  —  are,  therefore,  "man-made  gods." 
Was  not  this  the  sneer  of  the  most  ancient 
Greek  atheism,  and  as  well,  the  ground  of  the 
biting  sarcasm  of  Matthew  Arnold's  attack 
on  the  conception  of  the  Christian  God,  as 
held  by  certain  English  Bishops  and  theolo- 
gians of  his  own  day? 

Now  let  us  at  once  make  the  confession 
which  there  is  no  argument  for  escaping,  and 
no  promise  of  practical  good  in  delaying.  Of 
course,  man  makes  his  own  gods  and  his  own 
Alone  God;  and  he  makes  this,  as  every  other 
object  of  imagination  and  thought,  according 
to  his  own  human  capacity  for  such  work  of 
construction.  Man  has  no  other  way  of  per- 
ceiving, or  imagining  or  conceiving  anything, 
than  his  own  "man-like"  way.  He  cannot 
believe  in  anything,  or  have  faith  in  anything, 
which  is  not  constructed  in  essentially  an 
anthropomorphic  way.  But  then,  this  word 
"anthropomorphism"  is  not  the  terrible  and 
all-destroying  monster  which  it  is  assumed  to 
be.  In  reality,  when  used  in  the  correct  way, 
it  is  either  a  very  mild  and  harmless  ghostly 
existence;  or  it  is  a  friendly  guest  which  must 
always  be  entertained  and  well  treated  at 

[247] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

every  table,  whether  spread  with  the  bounties 
of  science,  art,  morality,  or  religion.  For  all 
human  science  is  man-made,  and  dependent 
upon  the  ability  of  human  reason,  when  properly 
employed,  to  reach  the  truth  of  Reality.  All 
knowledges  and  all  beliefs  are  alike  anthropo- 
morphic; although  they  are  by  no  means  alike 
credible  or  advanced  to  the  same  degree  of 
assurance  and  accuracy. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  the  psychology 
and  theory  of  knowledge  and  of  belief,  this 
plea  for  a  universal  scepticism  has  already  been 
sufficiently  discussed.  Its  refutation  consists 
in  the  ever-increasing  and  constantly  more 
and  more  confirmed  confidence  of  human 
reason  in  itself.  Religion,  though  more  fre- 
quently assailed  by  this  kind  of  agnosticism,  is 
not  especially  weak  under  its  assaults.  Quite 
the  contrary  is  true.  Religion  has  a  more 
lively  and  picturesque  way  of  stating  the  same 
saving  conviction.  It  asserts  that  "God  made 
man  in  the  divine  image";  or  rather,  to  give  a 
more  modern  and  scientific  turn  to  the  same 
truth :  God  is  perpetually  making  man  more 
and  more  into  his  own  divine  image;  and  he  is 
doing  this  by  that  process  of  revelation  and 
its  accompaniment  of  inspiration,  to  which 

[248] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

responds  the  attitude  of  faith.  Hence  the 
increasing  confidence  in  the  reasonableness  of 
this  faith. 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  every  individual 
who  raises  for  himself  the  question,  "What 
should  /  believe?"  if  he  looks  fairly  in  the  face 
the  phenomena  of  man's  religious  life  and  the 
religious  development  of  the  race,  must  at 
some  time  hold  with  himself  a  conversation 
somewhat  like  the  following.  "If  you  are  a 
man,  you  are  already  a  religious  being.  You 
cannot  help  this.  The  resolve  to  be  irreligious, 
in  the  full  negative  meaning  of  the  word,  — 
to  be  non-religious,  —  will  have  no  effect  by 
way  of  disposing  of  this  fundamental  fact. 
You  may,  in  some  sort,  'undo'  yourself  both 
morally  and  religiously,  as  well  as  intellectually; 
but  this  will  not  be  by  the  way  of  voiding  or 
negating  all  the  elements,  aptitudes,  tendencies, 
—  the  entire  mental  and  emotional  equipment, 
which  constitutes  your  religious  nature.  A 
wrecked  ship  is  still  a  ship  in  process  of  being 
wrecked,  until  every  spar  is  torn  out,  all  canvas 
blown  away,  all  timbers  wrenched  apart. 
Just  as  a  ship,  from  the  time  its  keel  is  laid 
until  it  is  launched  and  fitted  out  for  the 
longest  voyage,  is  still  a  ship  in  the  building. 

[249] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

Even  the  ribs,  bare  and  bleached  on  the  sand- 
dunes  or  on  the  rocks,  have  still  the  ship-like 
shape.  They  are  still  the  skeleton  of  a  ship 
that  is  a  wreck.  The  human  soul,  whether 
saved  or  lost,  remains  more  true  to  its  personal 
type  than  is  any  construction  of  human  hands." 

But  a  God  universal,  even  if  not  relegated 
to  distant  times  and  spaces  but  conceived  of 
as  immanent  in  the  physical  Universe  and  in 
human  history,  does  not  fully  satisfy  the 
cravings  of  the  awakened  spirit  of  the  individual 
man.  He  wills  to  say,  not  simply,  "Thou  art 
the  Heavenly  Father,  the  Creator  and  Ruler 
of  the  World,  the  Spirit  that  makes  for  right- 
eousness in  human  history";  but  also,  "Thou 
art  my  God,  my  Father,  and  my  Redeemer." 
And  now,  as  we  have  been  led  to  emphasize 
the  universal  reasonableness  of  the  central 
faith  of  religion,  as  growing  out  of  the  very 
nature  of  things  and  the  nature  and  develop- 
ment of  personal  life,  so  we  may  feel  warranted 
in  emphasizing  the  individuality  of  religion, 
and  of  the  faith  of  the  individual  in  his  personal 
relations  to  God. 

That  different  individuals  should  emphasize, 
and  accordingly  prize  and  cultivate  in  a  special 
way,  different  elements  or  aspects  of  religious 

[250] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

faith  (or  of  subjective  religion)  is  not  strange; 
it  is  no  disparagement  to  the  individual,  much 
less  to  the  nature  of  religion.  According  to 
these  peculiarities  the  conceptions  will  vary 
which  different  individuals  will  attain  of  the 
Object  of  their  faith.  For  the  working  princi- 
ple here  will  be  the  same  as  in  all  matters, 
whether  of  knowledge  or  of  belief. 

"It  is  a  commonplace  saying  that  religion 
is  not  a  science,  or  a  theory,  or  a  system  of 
dogmas,  or  an  affair  of  ceremonies  and  cult; 
it  is  a  life,  an  interior  experience.  But  left  in 
this  way,  the  saying  is  not  particularly  distinc- 
tive or  illumining  as  to  the  real  nature  of 
religion.  For  in  the  broadest  and  yet  most 
.  appropriate  meaning  of  the  wnrdsr 


.theory,  dogma,  and  cult,  are  all  items  of  experi- 
ence.  Nothing  that  is  not  somehow  experienced 
can  exist  for  man,  —  not  even  as  a  flight  of 
imagination,  a  plunge  of  intellect,  a  soaring  of 
sentiment,  or  a  despair  of  agnostic  unbelief. 
And  to  speak  of  an  'inner'  experience  is,  of 
course,  tautological.  The  most  occult  sciences, 
the  most  abstruse  theories,  the  most  compli- 
cated systems  of  abstract  dogmas,  and  the 
feelings  and  observances  of  the  most  mysterious 
cult,  can  only  become  real  as  they  are  experi- 

[251] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

ences  of  the  inner  life,  the  soul  of  man.  And 
each  real  experience  of  whatever  kind,  and 
whether  communicable  and  acceptable  to  the 
common  consciousness,  or  not,  belongs  to  some 
particular  Self.  It  is  only  in  the  reality  of  the 
living  experience  of  the  individual  Self  that 
the  Universal  and  Absolute  becomes  known  and 
believed  in  or  dimly  apprehended  as  felt. 

"Yet  this  saying,  which  makes  religion 
peculiarly  subjective  and  individual,  means 
well  and  has  an  important  truth  to  convey. 
These  intuitions  of  truth  and  reality,  together 
with  their  connections,  which  we  feel  powerless 
to  produce  by  any  form  of  demonstration  within 
other  minds;  these  aspirations,  hopes,  fears, 
and  sentimental  attractions  and  repulsions,  in 
which  others  do  not  seem  always  to  share; 
these  moral,  artistic,  and  other  ideals,  together 
with  the  stirrings  of  soul  which  they  produce 
in  us  without  seeming  in  the  same  way  to 
affect  our  fellows;  —  these,  and  such  as  these, 
are  the  experiences  which  we  consider  our 
very  own.  The  individual  life  consists  in 
them  rather  than  in  the  knowledge  of  matters 
of  common-sense  perception,  or  of  accepted 
scientific  formulas.  Neither  do  the  opinions 
and  social  habits  which  are  received  from  others 

[252] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

as  a  part  of  the  common  life  of  the  family,  the 
tribe,  the  nation,  the  race,  when  regarded  as 
common,  seem  to  be  peculiarly  the  possession 
of  the  individual.  Such  common  beliefs,  senti- 
ments, and  influential  practices  characterize 
the  religious  life  and  religious  development  of 
every  human  being,  —  as  has  already  been 
abundantly  shown.  And  it  is  these,  we  repeat, 
which  must  chiefly  form  the  data  for  a  reflective 
study  of  religion.  But  after  all,  religion  as  an 
actual  experience  of  the  individual  is  always 
something  more  than  what  is  common  to 
others.  It  is  a  very  special  and  deeply  interior 
experience,  in  its  higher  forms  of  realization; 
and  even  in  its  lower  forms,  it  is  something 
which,  from  its  very  nature,  each  personal 
being  feels  to  be  of  peculiar  value  to,  not  only 
the  family,  the  tribe,  the  nation,  or  the  race, 
but  to  his  own  Self.  Doubtless,  then,  there  is 
something  about  this  experience  which  entitles 
every  man  to  speak  of  my  religion  in  a  different 
way  from  that  in  which  he  feels  justified  in 
speaking  of  my  science,  or  my  politics,  or 
even  of  my  morality.  Doubtless,  also,  the 
individual  who  seeks  a  satisfactory  religious 
belief  and  cult,  a  religion  that  shall  'find* 
him,  is  not  satisfied  with  what  he  finds  until  it 

[2531 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

becomes  a  satisfaction  especially  adjusted  to 
his  particular  experience. 

"What  we  venture  to  call  the  peculiar  'in- 
dividuality' of  religion  is,  therefore,  a  char- 
acteristic which  belongs  to  the  very  nature 
of  all  religious  experience.  In  having  this 
experience,  indeed,  the  individual  cannot  sepa- 
rate himself  from  the  life  of  the  race.  The 
social  and  racial  influences  will  fuse  with  his 
peculiar  experiences  of  every  form,  whether 
he  wishes  it  or  not,  and  whether  he  is  conscious 
of  these  influences,  or  not.  Yet  every  one  is 
quite  justified  in  seeking  to  have  his  own  reli- 
gious needs  satisfactorily  met.  And  the  thesis 
to  which  attention  is  now  called  maintains  that 
religion  ought  to  be,  and  in  its  highest  forms 
of  development  actually  is,  able  to  meet  the 
peculiar  needs  of  the  individual.  For  what, 
indeed,  we  mean  by  the  'individuality  of 
religion*  is  just  this:— jhe  adaptability  of 
the  common  and  essential  elements  of  the 
religious  experience  to  all  the  differences  which 
characterize,  not  only  the  different  races,  and 
temperaments,  the  different  epochs  of  history 
and  changes  of  political  and  social  environ- 
ment, and  the  two  sexes,  but  also  the  infinite 
differences  in  constitution  and  culture  which 

[2541 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

mark  the  individuals  among  mankind."  ("Phi- 
losophy of  Religion,"  I,  pp.  594  ff.) 

Every  awakened  human  soul  who  enters 
upon  the  life  of  faith  in  God  must  have  some- 
thing answering  to  this  experience: 

"Mind  seeks  to  see, 

Touch,  understand,  by  mind  inside  of  me, 
The  Outside  Mind  —  whose  quickening  I  attain 
To  recognize." 

But  no  "recognition"  can  be  attained  as  long 
as  this  Other  remains  an  "Outside  Mind." 
The  avenue  of  entrance  is  the  experience  of 
faith.  And  at  the  last,  if  successful  after  being 
long  baffled,  the  searcher  will  have  to  say: 

"I  searched  for  God  with  heart-throbs  of  despair, 
'Neath  ocean's  bed,  above  the  vaulted  sky; 
At  last  I  searched  myself,  my  inmost  I, 
And  found  him  there. " 

"The  thoughts  of  the  heart,  these  are  the 
wealth  of  a  man,"  said  the  Chinese  sage.  "As 
a  man  thinketh  within  himself,  so  is  he,"  de- 
clared the  wise  man  of  Israel.  But  Jesus  told 
the  deeper  truth  when  he  taught  in  life  as  well 
as  speech:  "Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart, 
for  they  shall  see  God."  This  individuality 
of  the  priceless  experience  of  religious  faith, 
and  the  infinite  adaptability  of  the  Object  of 
this  faith  to  all  stages  in  the  intellectual  and 

[255] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

moral  culture  of  the  individual  and  of  the  race, 
cannot  be  disputed;  and  fortunately  it  cannot 
be  diminished,  by  any  reference  to  the  creeds, 
or  the  sacred  scriptures,  or  the  philosophy  or 
the  cult,  of  any  set  form  of  religion. 

If,  now,  we  say  that,  in  order  to  have  the 
only  mental  picture  of  its  Object  which  can 
call  forth  and  sustain  a  satisfying  and  saving 
faith,  one  must  frame  an  elaborate  conception 
of  God  precisely  corresponding  to  that  of 
other  believers  in  biblical  religion  or  in  the 
creed  of  some  religious  communion,  whether 
so-called  Christian,  or  not,  one  does  not  alter 
the  facts.  God  was  differently  conceived  of 
by  all  the  different  biblical  writers;  and  there 
are  indisputable  proofs  of  a  great  change  in 
some  very  important  factors,  if  we  trace  the 
development  of  this  conception  from  the 
earliest  to  the  latest  of  these  writers.  Jesus' 
Father  in  Heaven  is  far  from  being  the  precise 
facsimile  of  the  Yahveh  of  the  earliest  Old- 
Testament  scriptures.  And  how  differently  is 
the  God  to  whom  Jesus  looked  as  Father,  and 
whose  son  Jesus  was  in  a  very  special  and  unique 
way,  conceived  of  by  the  different  Christian 
sects  and  creeds  and  teachers  of  historical  Chris- 
tianity! It  is  not  in  the  power  of  human 

[256] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

thoughts  and  human  words  to  fix  any  compre- 
hensive idea,  much  less  any  supreme  moral  or 
religious  ideal,  in  this  rigid  way.  And,  indeed, 
who  would  wish  it  done  to  the  destruction  of 
these  supreme  values  of  spontaneity  and 
efficiency  which  belong  of  right  to  the  very 
nature  of  religious  faith?  Is  the  One  who 
is  the  Creator  and  Inspirer  of  all  souls,  and  the 
Redeemer  of  all  who  come  to  Him  in  faith,  to 
be  strictly  confined  in  the  forms  of  his  revela- 
tion to  those  whom  he  has  himself  endowed 
with  the  infinite  variety  in  unity,  the  individu- 
ality, that  is  the  characteristic  of  all  finite 
personal  life? 

To  this  thought  we  may  add  in  justification 
of  the  divine  procedure  that  it  is  this  same 
individuality  of  the  experience  of  faith  which 
constitutes  the  wealth  of  the  community  of 
the  faithful.  Some  men,  in  the  religious  as- 
pect of  life  and  practice  of  duty,  are  predomi- 
natingly intellectual,  others  practical,  others 
emotional.  The  world  has  need  of  thinkers 
on  religious  topics,  of  theologians,  of  practical 
reformers,  of  religious  poets,  and  of  monks 
and  nuns.  But  it  has  special  need  of  a  great 
host  of  plain  men  and  women,  who  take  God 
into  their  hearts  and  lives  by  the  experience 

[257] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

of  faith,  to  meet  the  endless  variety  of  their 
own  daily  physical  and  spiritual  needs. 

But  shall  one  answer  for  himself  the  question, 
What  should  I  believe?  in  matters  of  religious 
concern,  with  a  haughty  disregard  of  authority, 
and  with  the  pride  of  self-confidence,  or  the 
whimsical  rejection  of  argument  and  advice 
from  other  minds?  Is  this  the  way  in  which 
any  scientific  or  social  belief,  worthy  of  being 
entrusted  with  the  conduct  of  life,-  is  to  be 
attained?  To  ask  such  a  question  is  to  answer 
it.  In  such  a  spirit  as  this  no  one  ever  came 
into  the  comforting  and  helpful  experience  of 
a  reasonable  religious  faith. 

Referring  back  to  the  nature  of  the  intellec- 
tual belief  in  God,  we  are  reminded  of  the 
practical  maxim  that  the  seeker  must  be 
reasonable  in  his  search.  This  reasonableness 
includes  that  he  shall  not  demand  a  kind  of 
evidence  unsuitable  to  the  subject  and  therefore 
impossible  to  provide.  It  also  includes  that 
he  shall  fairly  estimate  the  evidence  to  which 
his  attention  is  called;  or  to  the  facing  of 
which  he  can  find  his  way  by  the  path  of  reflec- 
tion. But  the  call  of  religion  does  not  tolerate 
delay  or  indifference.  Yet  to  secure  even  this 
intellectual  belief  it  may  often  be  one's  duty  to 

[258] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

"wait  patiently  on  God."  In  truth,  one's 
whole  life  may  be  virtually  a  development  of 
faith  in  God.  As  Augustine  declared,  in  descrip- 
tion of  a  life  of  disbelief  succeeded  by  the  birth 
and  then  the  never  ceasing  vitality  of  a  growing 
faith:  "I  will  pass  then  beyond  this  power  of 
my  nature  also,  rising  by  degrees  unto  Him 
who  made  me.  .  .  .  Yea,  I  will  pass  beyond 
it,  that  I  may  approach  unto  Thee,  O  sweet 
Light." 

We  are  not  engaged  in  preparing  a  new  form 
of  creed;  even  much  less,  a  detailed  statement 
of  all  our  private  opinions  and  conjectures  or 
settled  convictions  respecting  the  truths  and 
the  life  of  religion.  Could  we  accomplish  the 
former  task,  however  bravely  undertaken,  and 
completed  with  no  matter  how  much  self- 
satisfaction,  the  result  would  almost  certainly 
be  only  to  create  further  divergence  of  the 
claims  that  already  divide  Christian  believers. 
Worse  still:  it  might  discourage  some  soul  who 
would  gladly,  if  only  it  could,  select  for  accept- 
ance some  one  of  the  many  existing  creeds. 
If,  however,  we  were  to  accomplish  the  latter 
task,  with  a  really  splendid  and  pride-worthy 
detail,  there  is  probably  not  an  individual  in  the 
whole  world  who  could  be  found  quite  com- 

[259] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

pletely  to  agree  with  the  result.  It  is  not  thus 
that  we  would  exhort  another  to  have  faith  in 
God.  We  will  explain  our  purpose,  the  rather, 
by  quoting  the  words  of  Scleiermacher  when 
he  was  urging  upon  every  man  the  duty  of 
having  a  religious  faith.  "You  perceive  that 
I  am  not  speaking  here  of  the  endeavor  to  make 
others  similar  to  ourselves;  nor  of  the  convic- 
tion that  what  is  exhibited  in  one  is  essential 
to  all;  it  is  merely  my  aim  to  ascertain  the  true 
relation  between  our  individual  life  and  the 
common  nature  of  man,  and  clearly  to  set  it 
forth."  And  again:  "Religious  views,  pious 
emotions,  and  serious  considerations  with  re- 
gard to  them,  —  these  we  cannot  throw  out  to 
one  another  in  such  small  crumbs  as  the  topics 
of  a  light  conversation;  and  when  the  discourse 
turns  upon  sacred  subjects,  it  would  rather 
be  a  crime  than  a  virtue  to  have  an  answer 
ready  for  every  question,  and  a  rejoinder  for 
every  remark." 

When,  however,  the  question,  What  should 
I  believe?  reaches  the  depths  and  rises  to  the 
heights  of  the  personal  and  social  interests 
involved  in  the  faiths  and  the  life  of  religion, 
we  can  have  no  reasonable  doubt  as  to  what 
our  answer  should  be. 

[2601 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

Nothing  can  be  of  so  great  importance  for 
the  interests  of  the  personal  life  as  to  have  it 
properly  adjusted  to  the  Universe,  from  which 
it  springs,  which  constitutes  its  environment, 
and  which  determines  its  destiny.  According  to 
the  essential  nature  of  the  human  mind,  this 
Universe,  known  as  a  world  of  allied  phenomena 
by  the  senses  and  by  inferences  from  the  senses, 
is  interpreted  into,  and  explained  by,  the  forces 
of  an  invisible  world  of  personal  and  spiritual 
import  and  character.  The  belief  in  the  reality 
of  this  spiritual  world  is  justifiable,  whether 
we  approach  the  problem  from  the  scientific 
or  from  the  religious  point  of  view.  The  neces- 
sities of  the  reason  which  must  be  satisfied 
are  essentially  the  same,  in  their  intellectual 
aspect,  from  either  point  of  view.  Under  the 
pressure  of  these  necessities,  science  talks  about 
different  degrees  and  kinds  of  energies  and  a 
fine  outfit  of  mechanism  and  laws;  religion 
talks  about  spirits  that  have  minds,  and 
emotions,  and  wills  of  their  own.  In  the  lower 
stages  of  the  development  of  both  science  and 
religion,  the  vast  variety  of  things  and  of  their 
sensible  changes,  and  the  capricious  doings  of 
man  and  other  living  beings,  do  not  seem  to 
warrant  the  belief  in  a  real  Universe,  a  "Cos- 

[261] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

mos,"  that  has  rational  unity,  beauty,  and  an 
interest  in  the  development  of  the  higher  moral 
and  spiritual  life  of  man.  But  surely,  though 
slowly  and  with  not  a  few  gaps  and  seeming 
inconsistencies,  the  picture  of  such  a  Universe 
establishes  and  justifies  itself  before  the  reason 
of  the  race.  Science  looks  on  this  process  as 
a  natural  evolution;  religion,  with  its  deeper 
and  more  spiritual  insight,  trusts  it  as  the 
Self-revelation  of  the  Divine  Being  of  the 
world,  the  indwelling  perfect  Ethical  Spirit  of 
God. 

Thus  far  goes  that  theory  of  the  Universe, 
that  hypothesis  explanatory  of  the  World's 
behavior,  which  commends  itself  as  the  most 
reasonable  and  important  of  all  intellectual 
beliefs.  But  this  belief,  as  bare  belief  (if,  in- 
deed, it  could  remain  "bare  belief"),  does  not 
satisfy  the  human  soul.  Man  desires  to  come 
into  communion  with  this  mysterious  Presence, 
to  know  and  to  do  what  this  supreme  Wisdom 
decrees  best  for  him,  to  follow  the  courses  of 
conduct  which  are  prescribed  by  this  Holy 
Spirit;  and,  when  the  consciousness  of  moral 
impurity,  moral  weakness,  and  moral  obliquity, 
is  awakened,  the  quickened  soul  desires  the 
Divine  forgiveness,  and  a  participation  in  the 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

fulness  of  the  Divine  redeeming  love.  All  this 
is  not  modern,  is  not  peculiar  to  any  form  of 
religious  belief  or  religious  cult.  All  this,  and 
much  more  of  the  same  sort,  belongs  to  the 
very  nature  and  the  universally  prevalent 
essentials  of  the  realization  of  the  values  of  the 
personal  life,  and  the  conditions  of  personal 
development. 

But  this  good,  so  eagerly  sought  by  the 
awakened  spiritual  life  of  man,  as  experienced 
in  the  individual  or  evinced  in  the  religious  his- 
tory of  the  race,  can  come  in  only  one  way.  It 
can  come  only  through  the  experience  of  faith. 
And  religious  faith  demands  the  whole  man. 
It  is,  indeed,  dependent  upon  some  measure  of 
intellectual  belief;  but  it  is  itself  essentially  an 
attitude  of  trust,  affection,  and  the  submission 
of  will,  to  the  Object  of  belief.  The  Object  of 
the  faith  of  religion  is  God. 

It  would  seem,  then,  that  to  have  no  interest 
in  this  question,  What  should  I  believe?  is 
unworthy  of  any  one  capable  of  appreciating 
the  supreme  values  of  the  personal  life.  To  be 
indifferent  to  one's  own  destiny,  or  to  that  of 
the  race,  as  considered  and  counselled  from 
the  religious  point  of  view,  is  not  to  rise 
into  the  region  of  calm  and  god-like  repose;  it 

[263] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

is,  the  rather,  to  sink  toward  the  lower  region 
of  an  animal  satisfaction  in  the  things  of  easier 
comprehension  and  lower  value;  or  of  unwill- 
ingness to  excite  the  mind  in  the  quest  of 
truths  which  have  the  highest  theoretical  in- 
terest and  practical  importance. 

From  this  view  we  argue  not  only  the  ad- 
vantage but  also  the  duty  of  securing  and 
cherishing  the  faiths  of  religion.  This  duty 
involves  the  obligation  to  prolonged  effort  to 
determine  the  content  of  faith.  It  involves 
the  duty  of  a  diligent  search  for  God,  that  one 
may  by  faith  make  him  indeed  one's  very  own, 
"my  God."  It  involves  the  duty  of  zealously 
cultivating  this  "kernel"  of  faith  when  once  it 
has  been  found.  "A  germ  in  darkness;  let  it 
grow."  It  is  the  call  of  duty,  if  by  any  means 
found  possible,  not  simply  to  believe  in  a 
Force,  or  an  Unconditioned  impersonal  Princi- 
ple, that  will  help  explain  Nature  as  a  mechan- 
ism under  a  process  of  physical  evolution;  but, 
the  rather,  to  believe  in  a  God  that  affords  to 
reason  some  adequate  ground  for  the  moral 
and  religious  nature  of  man,  and  for  the  eth- 
ical and  religious  evolution  of  the  race.  But 
above  all,  if  possible  (and  only  by  an  act  of 
the  will  to  have  faith  is  this  possible)  is  it  the 

[264] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

duty  of  the  individual  person,  to  have  faith  in 
a  God,  with  whom  he  may  come  into  intimate 
communion  of  spirit,  and  in  whom  he  may 
find  a  loving  Father  and  an  efficient  Redeemer. 

We  have  thus  far  spoken  of  only  one  of  the 
faiths  of  religion,  of  which  —  if  we  are  to  judge 
by  the  immense  variety  and  the  diversity  of 
creeds  and  cults,  the  endless  verbal  controver- 
sies and  the  violent  and  bloody  strifes  —  there 
is  an  indefinite  number  of  hopelessly  confused 
and  confusing  examples.  But  this  one  article 
of  faith  is  the  faith  of  religion;  and  by  its 
character  and  powerful  influence  it  determines 
the  character  and  regulates  and  appraises  the 
value  of  all  that  religion  is  and  means  to  man. 
What  one  really  and  intelligently  believes 
about  God  determines  all  one's  religious  beliefs; 
the  character  of  one's  faith  in  God  fixes  the 
character  of  all  one's  religious  life. 

It  is  the  God  of  Christian  Theism  who,  of 
all  the  forms  of  religious  belief,  considered  from 
the  intellectual  point  of  view,  most  satisfac- 
torily answers  to  the  demands  of  reason  for  an 
explanation  of  the  phenomena  of  the  physical 
world  and  of  human  history.  But  especially 
is  it  by  the  experience  of  trust,  love,  and  the 
life  of  obedience  to  such  a  God,  that  the  emo- 

[265] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

tional,  moral,  and  aesthetical  demands  of  the 
soul  are  best  met,  and  the  practical  needs  of 
personal  development  are  most  satisfied. 

This  faith  in  God  removes  the  harsh  con- 
trast, often  amounting  to  a  conflict,  between 
the  natural  and  the  so-called  supernatural.  It 
accomplishes  this  without  banishing  God  from 
the  world  of  time  and  sense,  or  from  any  part 
of  it;  and  also  without  substituting  for  a 
living  God  an  abstraction  or  a  mechanical 
system  of  impersonal  agencies  and  things. 
To  this  faith,  God  is  ever  manifested  as  imma- 
nent in  the  World,  but  as  never  to  be  identified, 
to  the  destruction  of  his  personality,  with  the 
sum- total  of  its  existences  and  phenomena. 

This  faith  also  affords,  not  simply  as  a  specu- 
lative system  but  as  a  vital  experience,  the 
ground  for  interpreting  aright  the  theological 
doctrines  of  God  as  Creator  and  Preserver; 
but,  especially,  as  ever-present  and  ever- 
operative  Providence  and  Ruler  of  the  Universe 
which  he  holds  —  as  faith  figuratively  expresses 
it  —  "in  the  hollow  of  his  hand."  In  this 
way,  also,  the  same  faith  makes  revelation  and 
inspiration  so  natural  (in  the  higher  and  more 
inclusive  meaning  of  the  word,  which  renders 
it  equivalent  to  whatever  accords  with  reason 

[266] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

and  with  moral  order),  as  to  bring  the  Divine 
energies  of  enlightenment  and  redemption  into 
the  closest  contact  with  every  human  soul, 
and  to  put  them  at  its  disposal.  This  is  the 
supreme  triumph  of  religious  faith,  to  find  in 
God  one's  Redeemer. 

Here,  then,  we  come  again  upon  the  two 
conceptions  which  we  have  found  dominating 
our  thought  in  all  discussion  of  the  problems  of 
Knowledge,  Duty,  and  Faith,  from  the  practi- 
cal points  of  view.  These  are  Personality  and 
Development.  Our  answer  to  the  question, 
What  should  we  all  believe?  so  far  as  a  religious 
faith  is  concerned,  will  be  determined  by  the 
spiritual  unity  of  the  race,  as  it  develops  under 
divinely  controlled  physical  and  social  condi- 
tions. But,  in  matters  of  faith,  as  in  matters 
of  duty,  there  will  be  to  the  end  individuality 
rather  than  strict  conformity.  Every  soul 
will  therefore  have  to  determine  for  itself, 
What  should  7  believe?  The  individuality  is 
not  eccentricity,  or  the  caprice  of  superstition, 
or  the  practice  of  religious  fanaticism.  It 
signifies  the  gracious  adaptability  of  the  Infinite 
to  all  the  endless  variety  of  finite  needs.  But 
the  faith  that  will  triumph  must  be,  both  for  the 
individual  and  for  the  race,  a  positive,  mightily 

[267] 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

efficient,  and  morally  purifying  and  uplifting 
faith. 

The  call  of  the  world  of  men  today,  which  is 
most  insistent  and  most  intense,  if  not  most 
loud  and  clamorous,  is  the  call  for  a  rehabilita- 
tion of  religious  faith.  The  answer  to  this  call 
must  recognize  the  fact,  that  man  is,  from 
first  to  last  and  in  all  his  aspects  and  activities, 
a  religious  being.  This  experience  which  we 
call  religion  is,  in  simple  verity,  is,  as  fact  of 
psychology  and  fact  of  history,  of  all  facts  that 
concern  human  nature,  most  important  and 
most  powerful.  Man  is  "a  speaking  being." 
He  is  a  "rational  being,"  -meaning  by  this 
that  he  restlessly  seeks  explanation  for  himself 
and  his  Universe.  He  is  "a  social  being"; 
and  he  therefore  is  resistlessly  compelled  to 
find  his  satisfactions  and  means  for  self-develop- 
ment in  intercourse  with  others  of  his  own 
kind.  But,  as  including  all  these,  and  some- 
thing much  more,  he  is  a  spirit,  called  to  the 
perfection  of  personal  life.  The  way  to  answer 
that  call  is  the  way  of  religion;  it  is  the  way, 
the  gate  to  which  is  religious  faith.  And  on 
this  matter,  the  voice  of  emotion  in  prayer 
and  poetry  accords  faithfully  with  the  voice  of 
practical  philosophy. 

[268] 


THE  FAITHS  OF  RELIGION 

"All  things  living  are  indebted  to  Thy  goodness,  ...  It  is 
Thou  alone,  O  Lord,  who  art  the  true  Parent  of  all  things. "  — 
PRATER  TO  SHANG  Tl. 

"Among  themselves  all  things 

Have  order;  and  from  hence  the  form,  which  makes 
The  Universe  resemble  God."  —  DANTE. 

"Is  not  God  i'  the  world  His  power  first  made? 
Is  not  His  love  at  issue  still  with  sin, 
Visibly  when  a  wrong  is  done  on  earth?  "  —  BROWNING. 

"The  High  and  Lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose 
name  is  Holy. "  —  ISAIAH. 

"There  is  only  one  thing  needful:  to  know  God."  —  AMIEL. 

In  his  practical  answer  to  the  inquiry,  "What 
should  I  believe?"  the  wise  man  will,  then, 
make  the  faiths  of  morality  and  religion  his 
chief  concern.  But  among  them  all,  there  is 
one  which  virtually  includes  all.  This  is  the 
Faith  in  God.  But  the  value  of  this  faith 
depends  upon  two  things:  What  kind  of  a 
God  is  this  in  whom  faith  is  to  be  placed? 
And  what  is  the  place  which  this  faith  is  to  have 
in  the  conduct  and  the  development  of  the 
personal  life?  To  answer,  by  the  actual  shap- 
ing of  this  life,  these  two  questions  in  a  fully 
satisfying  way,  is  the  problem  of  problems,  for 
the  individual  and  for  the  race. 


269 


INDEX 


"A  THEORY  OF  REALITY" 
(quoted),  157  f. 

ABBE  DE  BROGLIE,  121 

ARGYLL,  DUKE  OF,  on  philos- 
ophy of  belief,  23,  81  f.. 
164 

ARISTOTLE,  on  "intellectual 
virtues,"  20  f .,  28 

"ASSENT,"  as  related  to  faith, 
8,  10  f.,  116f.;  Locke,  on 
degrees  of,  109  f.;  as  related 
to  inference,  113  f.,  117  f. 

AUGUSTINE  (quoted),  219,  259 

AUTHORITY,  in  matters  of  be- 
lief and  faith,  117  f. 

BALFOUR,  29  f.,  43;  on  effect 
of  custom,  103  f. 

"BEING  OF  THE  WORLD"  (see 
Cosmos  and  Universe),  243  f. 

BELIEF,  nature  of,  v,  5  f.,  8  f., 
14  f.,  18  f.,  21,  26  f.,  33,  36  f., 
124, 125  f.,  148  f.,  185  f.,  230; 
relation  of,  to  knowledge,  vi, 
1  f.,  4  f.f  10  f.,  15,  22,  31  f., 
33  f.,  47,  102  f.,  109  f.,  148  f.; 
and  to  guessing,  8  f.,  26  f.; 
involved  in  perception,  11  f., 
14;  justification  of,  13  f.,  26 
f.,  36  f.;  relation  of,  to  "trow- 
ing," 15  f.,  17,  26  f.;  place  of 
intellect  in,  18  f.,  29,  113f.; 


and  of  imagination,  21  f ., 
24  f.,  40,  71;  influence  of 
sentiment  upon,  27  f .,  41, 
54  f.,  102  f.;  and  of  practical 
needs,  27  f.,  41;  moral  na- 
ture of,  36  f.,  38  f.,  45  f., 
47  f .,  64  f .,  90;  measurement 
of  certainty  in,  72  f.,  75  f., 
109  f.,  121  f.;  degrees  of, 
74  f.,  109  f.,  117  f.;  rights 
and  obligations  of,  chap.  IV, 
94  f.,  108  f.,  113  f.,  121  f.; 
dependence  of,  on  argument, 
113f.;  and  on  authority, 
117, 119  f.;  rewards  of,  chap. 
V,  127  f.;  illusiveness  of, 
129  f.,  131  f. 

BELIEFS,  regulation  of,  v,  x, 
xii,  3  f .,  12  f.,  18  f.,  27  f .,  72 
f.,  87  f.,  lllf.,  121  f.;  pres- 
ence of,  in  science,  vii,  7  f ., 
14  f .,  23,  33  f.,  51,  82  f.,  143 
f.,  152,  chap.  VI;  social 
importance  of,  viii,  chap. 
VI;  naturalness  of  certain, 
11  f.,  26  f.,  79  f.,  100  f.,  143 
f.;  causes  of,  18  f.,  76  f.,  78, 
89,  101,  102  f.,  104  f.;  re- 
ality of,  23  f .,  25,  26  f.,  143 
f.;  test  of  reasonableness  in, 
27  f.,  29  f.,  31  f .,  50  f.,  56,  71 
f.,  97  f.,  99  f.,  106  f .,  109  f., 

[271] 


INDEX 


113  f .,  121  f .,  189  f . ;  lesser  and 
greater,  chap.  Ill,  69  f.,  77  f., 
79  f.,  89,  96  f.;  necessity  of 
making  distinctions  in,  72  f.; 
being  sure  of,  73  f.,  80  f.,  87 
f.;  value  of,  as  experienced 
facts,  108  f.,  113;  so-called 
"proofs"  of,  113  f.;  as  work- 
ing hypotheses,  135  f.,  139  f.; 
scientific  and  social,  chap. 
VI,  145  f,  169  f.,  173  f., 
263;  as  elements  of  mental 
life,  143  f.,  147  f.;  influence 
of  religion  on,  145  f.,  218 

BERGSON,  M.,  43  f.,  97 

BERNARD,  SAINT,  41,  185. 

BRADLEY,  "Appearance  and 
Reality,"  57  f. 

BUDDHISM,  its  doctrine  of 
Karma,  203 

CARLYLE,  on  essential  nature  of 
religion,  222 

CASTREN,  147 

CONVICTION,  degrees  of,  15  f . 

COSMOS,  the,  nature  of  the  con- 
ception, 60  f.,  159  f.,  161  f., 
228,  261  f.  (see  "Universe") 

CREDULITY,  measure  of,  ix, 
220;  elimination  of,  from 
religion,  220 

CROZIER,  163 

EMERSON,  on  religion  as  sci- 
ence, 185 

EPICTETUS,  on  will  to  believe, 
45  f.,  72,  204;  relation  of 
human  to  Divine  Will,  131  f. 


FAITH,  nature  of,  24  f .,  33  f .,  46, 
47  f.,  113  f.,  126  f.,  137, 139  f., 
183,  185  f.,  245;  "ontological 
consciousness,"  26,  34,  237, 
244  f.,  251  f.;  Fichte's defence 
of,  46  f.;  harmony  with 
Reason,  53;  as  based  on  in- 
ference, 113  f.,  116  f.,  185  f.; 
as  subjective  religion,  125, 
187  f.;  in  God,  as  Ethical 
Spirit,  198  f.,  210  f.,  213  f., 
219  f.,  244,  246  f.,  251  f.,  261 
f.;  universality  of  the  reli- 
gious, 212  f.,  216  f.,  239  f.; 
development  of,  224  f.,  229  f. 

FAITHS,  of  morality  and  reli- 
gion, 24  f.,  86  f.,  94  f.,  99, 
115  f.,  136  f.,  148  f.,  chap. 
VII,  188  f.,  191  f.,  194,  218, 
chap.  VIII,  225  f.,  261  f.; 
reasonableness  of,  50  f .,  86  f ., 
99  f.,  105,  113  f.,  136  f.,  189 
f.,  261  f.;  value  as  experi- 
enced facts,  113  f.,  116  f., 
132,  192  f.,  205  f.;  nature  of 
the  Christian,  126;  as  guar- 
anteed by  Reason,  150  f . ;  dis- 
tinguished from  belief,  182, 
183  f.,  186  f.,  230  f.;  indi- 
viduality of,  191  f.;  enduring 
nature  of  the  moral,  194, 
196,  225  f. 

FARADAY,  MICHAEL,  86  f . 

FICHTE,  on  "Destiny  of  Man," 
46  f.,  80 

GNOSTICISM,  156 
GOETHE,  37,  80,  130 


INDEX 


GRAHAM,  STEPHEN,  181 
GUESSING,  as  related  to  belief, 
8  f .,  26  f . 

HAMILTON,  SIR  WM.,  4f.;  his 
"Law  of  the  Conditioned," 
57  f. 

HUMBOLDT,  on  nature  of  reli- 
gion, 239  f . 

IDEALISM,  the  moral,  193  f. 

IMAGINATION,  part  of,  in  belief, 
21  f.,  24  f.,  40  f.,  52;  in  re- 
ligious faith,  24  f.,  34  f.,  52  f., 
183  f. 

INTELLECT,  active  in  all  belief, 
18  f.,  29  f.,  43,  51  f.,  113  f.; 
special  province  of,  51  f.;  as 
inferring  grounds  of  belief, 
113  f.,  115 

JASTROW,  PROF.,  145  f.;  on  uni- 
versality of  religion,  217;  on 
the  Hebrew  prophets,  219 

KANT,  his  distinction  between 
faith  and  knowledge,  5  f.,  15 
f.,  72,  165,  232  f.;  negative 
criticism  of,  12;  on  nature  of 
"trowing,"  15  f.;  on  argu- 
ment from  design,  165  f.;  on 
"Transcendental  Dialectic," 
232  f. 

KELVIN,  LORD  (quoted),  231 
KNOWLEDGE,  as  related  to  be- 
lief, 4  f.,  47  f.,  102  f.,  109  f., 
129,  131  (and  passim) 


LOCKE,  on  Probability,  109  f . 
LOTZE,  on  science  and  religion, 
167 

MAHER,  PROF.,  5  f.,  13 

MANSEL,  DEAN,  "Limits  of 
Religious  Thought,"  57  f. 

MARTINEAU,  on  nature  of  re- 
ligion, 229 

MATTER,  scientific  conception 
of,  154  f.,  157  f. 

MORALITY,  faiths  of,  the,  chap. 
VII,  ideals  of,  190  f.;  192  f., 
194  f.,  202  f.,  205  f.;  essen- 
tial to  personal  life,  205  f., 
208  f.;  relation  to  religion, 
210  f. 

NATURE,   scientific  conception 

of,  156  f. 
NEWMAN,  CARDINAL,  on  nature 

of  "assent,"  8  f.,  21,  112;  and 

"Bible  religion,"  185 
NIETZSCHE,  78,  85,  170,  207 
NOVALIS,  on  nature  of  religion, 

239 

OPTIMISM,  as  Belief,  grounds  of, 
62  f.,  197  f.;  social  necessity 
of,  175  f.;  as  an  ethical  faith, 
197  f. 

PASCAL  (quoted),  241 
PERCEPTION,  SENSE  — ,  natural 

belief    in,    12  f.,    33  f.,   79  f. 
PFLEIDERER,   on    Zarathustra, 

202;    on  nature  of  religion, 

229  f. 

[273] 


INDEX 


"  PHILOSOPHY  OP  CONDUCT  " 
(quoted),  191.,  192  f. 

"PHILOSOPHY  OP  RELIGION" 
(quoted),  32  f.,  98  f.,  148  f., 
214  f.,  237  f.,  251  f. 

PLATO,  on  conception  of  the 
"Good,"  191 

PRAGMATISM,  on  will-to-be- 
lieve,  42  f.;  emotional  char- 
acter of,  97;  newness  of,  102; 
central  truth  of,  121 

PROBABILITY,  Locke,  on  de- 
grees of,  109  f. 

PTAH-HOTEP,  MAXIMS  OF,  179 

QUATREFAGES,  on  universality 
of  religion,  216 

REASON,  so-called,  in  relation 
to  Faith,  53,  60  f.,  105  f., 
149  f.;  as  having  faith  in 
itself,  150  f. 

RELIGION,  place  of  faith  in, 
125,  212  f.,  229  f.,  240,  244, 
248  f.,  256;  ideals  of, 
210  f.,  256  f.;  universality 
of,  212  f.,  216  f.;  essential  na- 
ture of,  214  f.,  220  f.,  222  f., 
229  f.,  236  f.,  244  f.,  255; 
sources  of,  221  f.,  236  f.,  240 
f.,  243  f.;  as  explanatory, 
222  f.,  244  f.,  261  f.;  indi- 
viduality of,  254 

REVILLE,  M.,  on  universality 
of  religion,  212,  216  f . 

ROSKOFF,  on  universality  of 
religion,  216 

[274] 


ROTHE,  DR.  RICHARD,  on  be- 
lief and  knowledge,  33  f .,  245 
ROYCE,  PROF.,  130  f. 

SCEPTICISM,      limitations      of, 

xi 
SCHILLER,  ode  "To  the  Ideal," 

25,  130,  209 
SCHLEIERMACHER,  on  nature  of 

religion,  260 
SCHOPENHAUER,    on   "Will    to 

Live,"  43 
SCIENCE,  place  of  belief,  in,  vii, 

7f.,   14  f.,  23  f.,  33  f.,  51  f., 

82  f.,  133  f.    chap.  VII,  152 

f.,  165  f. 
SELF,  the,  as  source  of  belief, 

76    f.,  78,    89,    93  f.,    119  f., 

143  f.;   belief  in  reality  of, 

78  f.  81  f. 

SPENCER,  HERBERT,  57 
STOUT,  PROF.,  18 

THEODICY,  the  faith  of,  201  f. 

THEOGNIS,  201 

TIELE,  on  universality  of  reli- 
gion, 217 

TITO  VIGNOU,  PROF.,  180 

"TROWING,"  nature  of,  15  f., 
26  f. 

UNIVERSE,  savage  conception 
of,  222  f . ;  spiritual  concep- 
tion of,  227  f.,  261  f.  (see 
"Cosmos") 

VOLTAIRE  (quoted),  200 


INDEX 

WAITZ,  on  universality  of  re-  chap.  II,  43  f.,  46  f.,  48  f., 

ligion,  212  56  f.,  95  f.,  135  f.;  limitations 

"WHAT  CAN  I  KNOW?"  of,  49  f.,  54  f.,  57  f.,  135  f.; 

(quoted),  4,  263  discipline  of,  50  f .,  55  f ., 

"WHAT  OUGHT  I  TO  Do?"  63 f.;  applied  to  "pairs  of 

(quoted),  88,  120  beliefs,"  56  f.,  60  f. 

WILL,    the,    to    believe,    34  f., 


275 


Longmans,  Green,  &  Co.'s  Publications 


WHAT  CAN  I  KNOW? 

An  Inquiry  into  Truth,  its  Nature,  The  Means  of  its  Attainment, 
and  its  Relations  to  the  Practical  Life.  By  George  Trumbull  Ladd, 
LL.D.  Crown  8vo.,  $1.50  net. 

This  book,  while  bringing  to  bear  on  the  problem  of  knowledge  the  more  recent 
points  of  view,  both  psychological  and  philosophical,  aims  chiefly  at  helping  the 
reader  in  the  culture  and  practical  uses  of  the  mental  life.  Thus  it  considers  not 
only  the  nature  and  guaranties  of  knowledge,  but  especially  how  knowledge  may  be 
used  to  attain  its  most  important  ends.  These  are  the  ideals  and  the  behavior  that 
have  value.  Without  being  controversial,  it  furnishes  material  for  criticism  of  the 
errors  and  half-truths  of  Pragmatism  and  other  current  theories  as  to  the  meaning 
and  worth  of  Truth.  Its  conclusions  lie  in  "  the  middle  of  the  road,"  between  the 
extremes  of  intellectual  over-confidence  or  an  easy  credulousness  and  excessive  skep. 
ticism  or  agnostic  despair.  Inasmuch  as  all  knowledge  involves  the  higher  senti- 
ments and  the  activities  of  "  free  will,"  its  attainment  and  culture  become  a  matter 
of  personal  obligation  and  moral  concernment.  In  this  way  this  Treatise  serves  as 
an  Introduction  for  those  which  are  to  follow,  and  which  will  treat  of  Duty,  Faith, 
and  Hope,  in  further  defence  of  a  consistent  system  of  rationalism  in  opinion  and  in 
conduct. 

For  such  ...  as  are  seeking  a  satisfying  answer  to  the  inquiry  propounded  by 
this  volume  a  veteran  thinker  here  cuts  an  easily  traveled  path  through  the  mazes 
of  the  subject,  clearing  it  of  entanglements,  and  steadily  keeping  in  view  its  issues 
in  practical  value  for  the  rational  conduct  of  lif e.  —  The  Outlook. 


The  man  of  learning  who  puts  into  a  little  book  his  best  and  most  availably 
useful  thought,  so  simply  expressed  that  all  who  are  intelligent,  with  or  without 
technical  training,  may  understand,  does  an  eminently  good  thing.  .  .  .  Dr.  Ladd 
approaches  his  subject  as  one  seeking  for  practical  light  and  leading.  Dluminatingly 
he  discusses  the  question  of  the  limitations  of  human  knowledge,  the  effects  of 
heredity  and  of  environment,  including  the  opinions  of  others,  everywhere  deepen- 
ing the  significance  of  those  lessons  which  common  sense  and  experience  teach  with 
more  or  less  thoroughness  to  the  virtuous  and  the  intelligent  Analyzing  the 
process  by  which  we  know,  he  sums  up  his  results  in  the  notable  saying  that 
"  knowledge  is  a  matter  of  the  entire  man  —  the  real  knower  is  the  whole  self,  not 
as  a  '  naked  mind,'  but  as  a  living  soul."  —  North  American  Review. 


These  far  reaching  questions,  as  we  have  intimated,  are  answered  by  Professor 
Ladd  from  the  point  of  view  which  he  has  reached  in  his  own  long  course  of  reflective 
thinking.  For  the  most  part  his  results  are  not  only  wholesome  and  constructive  in 
themselves,  but  they  are  stated  in  moderate  terms.  Later  novelties  in  the  epistemo- 
logical  field  are  also  taken  into  account,  .  .  .  the  style  is  planned  for  the  comprehep- 
sion  of  the  knower  little  versed  in  technical  forms.  Without  writing  down  to  the 
level  of  the  plain  man,  Professor  Ladd  has  been  at  pains  to  phrase  his  conclusion?  as 
simply  as  may  be.  —  The  Philosophical  Review,  March,  1915. 


Longman's,  Green,  &  Co.'s  Publications 


WHAT  OUGHT  I  TO  DO? 

An  Inquiry  into  the  Nature  and  Kinds  of  Virtue,  and  into 
the  Sanctions,  Aims  and  Values  of  the  Moral  Life.  By  George 
Trumbull  Ladd,  LL.D.  Crown  8vo,  $1.50  net. 

This  second  volume  of  the  Series  of  Four  Questions  deals  with  the  problem  of 
Duty  in  similar  manner  to  that  in  which  the  preceding  volume  dealt  with  the  prob- 
lem of  Knowledge.  After  defining  the  meaning  of  the  question,  it  traces  the  origins 
and  development  of  responsibility,  in  the  feelings  naively  expressed  by  the  phrases 
"  I  ought "  and  "  I  can."  The  significance  and  value  of  the  intention  of  being  good 
and  of  doing  one's  duty  are  discussed  in  separate  chapters,  which  are  followed  by  a 
brief  defence  of  the  supreme  worth  of  moral  ideals  in  the  evolution  of  personal  life. 
A  chapter  on  the  many  virtues  is  supplemented  by  one  raising  the  inquiry:  "  Is  there 
one  only  virtue?  "  in  which  the  essentials  of  all  the  others  may  be  summed  up  and 
expressed.  Other  laws  are  then  contrasted  with  the  Moral  Law,  and  certain  maxims 
helpful  for  the  settling  of  cases  of  conscience  are  then  suggested.  The  book  ends 
with  two  chapters  which  bear  the  titles,  "  The  Final  Issue  "  and  "  Morality  and 
Religion." 


WHAT  SHOULD  I  BELIEVE? 

An  inquiry  into  the  Nature,  Grounds  and  Value  of  the  Faiths  of 
Science,  Society,  Morals  and  Religion.  By  George  Trumbull  Ladd, 
LL.D.  Crown  8vo.,  $1.50  net. 

The  first  task  of  this  volume  is  to  describe  the  elements  of  the  mental  attitude 
of  Belief  so  as  to  distinguish  it,  on  the  one  hand,  from  Knowledge,  and  on  the 
other,  from  mere  opinion.  In  this  connection  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  of  the  so- 
called  "  will  to  believe  "  is  briefly  discussed.  The  central  thought  of  the  book  is 
reached,  however,  in  a  chapter  which  bears  the  title  "  Lesser  and  Greater  Beliefs," 
and  which  attempts  to  distinguish  those  forms  of  this  mental  attitude  that  make 
claims  upon  the  conscience,  put  the  person  under  rational  obligations,  and  offer  the 
comfort  and  rewards  of  right  belief.  Chapters  then  follow  which  give  more  special 
and  detailed  consideration  to  certain  scientific  and  social  beliefs;  and,  after  describing 
the  minor  differences  between  simple  belief  and  so-called  faith,  vindicate  at  con- 
siderable length  the  more  important  and  fundamental  of  the  faiths  of  morality  and 
of  religion. 

In  Immediate  Preparation 

WHAT  MAY  I  HOPE? 

An  inquiry  into  the  Sources  and  Reasonableness  of  Human  Hopes, 
especially  the  Social  and  Religious.  Crown  8vo. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


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